


Black Cat Luck

by egregarious



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Background Crosshares, Background Relationships, F/F, Ladybug - Freeform, Pining, i promise things will happen eventually, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-05-01 06:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14514285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egregarious/pseuds/egregarious
Summary: Twenty five years ago people with inhuman abilities began popping up all over Remnant.  Some used their powers for the benefit of all, but others embraced darker desires.  As Ruby, Weiss, and Yang welcome a new roommate to their apartment, a new villain sets his eyes on Vale.





	1. Part One

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###  _Prelude_

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_A healthy adult carries roughly one point three gallons of blood in their body. It makes up between seven and eight percent of their total bodyweight, flowing through a system of veins and arteries so complexly woven together, that if put end to end, would reach almost one hundred thousand miles long. We cannot live without blood. There is no viable replacement or substitute and no known way to manufacture it._

_Ruby stared at the floor of her apartment. No matter where she looked, all she could see was red._

_With trembling fingers, she felt the outline of fresh stitches, hastily covered in the bandages kept under the bathroom sink. The only sounds to be heard were the shaky, shallow, barely-there breaths of the woman whose life now hung by a thread thinner than the sutures Ruby had used to close her wounds. Long black hair hung loose over the side of the sofa, waterfalling almost to the floor; uninterrupted, but for the dark, red wetness that stained it in irregular splotches and two feline ears atop the woman’s head._  
  


### Part One: September 28 – Late Afternoon

“Okay, here me out for just a minute. All I’m saying is that Siren and Dauntless would most definitely be the best two-person team that Vale has ever seen. Hands down, they’re the coolest superheroes anyone’s seen in years and they’ve even said in interviews that they’re interested in working together!”

“Oh please, Yang. We both know that the only reason you want to see them together is because they’re both lesbians. Half the time I’m convinced the only thing you think about is gay women in hero costumes.”

“Fuckin’ guilty as charged, Ice Queen, take me away!” the blonde replied, moving her wrists together to mimic being handcuffed. Weiss rolled her eyes skyward, silently lambasting whatever cruel god’s plan it was to make her put up with this woman, her face split with the widest most unrepentant grin she had ever seen. “But just picture it for a second, will ya? I mean it would be classic thunder and lightning tactics if they teamed up. Dauntless is a crazy skilled bruiser who can take the brunt of a bad guy’s attacks while Siren can come in from the side or above with the whole, screechy punchy thing she does. It would be just like the fight against Copperhead, when Siren teamed up with what’s-his-face, except even cooler than that!”

“Even cooler than the Copperhead fight? Is that even possible?” Ruby chimed in, somehow managing to get her words out between contented munches on the pizza the three roommates were in the middle of sharing. “The news was talking about that for like three weeks straight.”

“I suppose that’s only to be expected with how powerful a villain Copperhead was. I mean, he was implicated in the destruction of Kuroyuri, instrumental even,” Weiss said thoughtfully. She took a moment to dab a napkin to her lips before adding. “A big catch like that should be the top story for a while, it certainly was for us at the Daily.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying! Siren’s totally awesome, and with a little backup from someone like, oh I don’t know, Dauntless, she could take down somebody that’s really evil. Somebody like…uhh…like-”

“Like Montag,” Ruby said, finishing her sister’s sentence.

“Exactly. Somebody like Montag.”

“From what I’ve been hearing, he hasn’t pulled anything since the Vacuo Federal Building attack. I was listening to some expert the other day say that most likely this means he’s on the move, going for another city, or even another kingdom.”

“Well-informed as always, Ice Queen. I remain impressed,” Yang said with a bow, a move she somehow managed to look theatrical despite still being seated.

“I work for a newspaper, its kind of my job to be well-informed.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be impressed, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” After a wink from Yang, and another heavily practiced eye roll from Weiss, the conversation dipped for a moment while the three women quietly enjoyed their pizza.

“Not to doubt your source Weiss, but it seems kind of crazy for anyone to be an expert on Montag. They keep saying online that he’s completely unpredictable, nobody can figure out what his targets have in common, or what he’s really after. Its obviously not money, but like, what else could it be? He’s never published a manifesto like Baroness or Tecton, made no political statements, and there’s no real pattern to what he’s attacking. It just seems so random, you know what I mean?” Ruby said. With a thoughtful look on her face, she reached across the table to grab another slice from inside its cardboard box. “And he’s not just some average joe in a ski mask either, did you see the gear he was wearing in the Federal Building attack? That was high-grade Polybenzimidazole, the same stuff they use in astronaut suits, and it was tailored to his frame too. Machining a polymer of that level of quality takes a lot of know-how and specialized tools, way beyond the average technician.” She shook her head forcefully. “He’s got top of the line gear, enough skill to get in and out of a major target without getting caught, and a power potent enough for someone like Vahakn to be jealous, yet he still just picks his targets at random. He’s as likely to attack a government office as a neighborhood thrift shop. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Pausing for a moment to take a bite of pizza, Ruby looked up to see her two roommates staring at her in silence. “What?” she asked mid-chew.

“Somebody’s been thinking about this a lot,” Yang said while reaching over to ruffle her younger sister’s hair.

“True,” Weiss said, her face contemplative. “Maybe the Daily should make you our supervillain expert,” she added with a playful grin.

“Oh, come on guys, you can stop messing with me already! I just spend way too much time on the internet,” Ruby said, finally escaping the clutches of Yang’s sisterly hair-mussing.

For her part, Yang gave Ruby a serious look. “Too much time, huh? You aren’t getting behind on your studies, are you?”

“No, I still have all A’s. This is just something to do when I can’t sleep.”

“If you say so. Just make sure that school still comes first, alright?”

“I know, I know,” Ruby responded, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “Homework before network, I’ve heard it before, I’ll hear it again.”

“Okay, so you can say the words,” Yang said, before plastering a thousand-watt grin across her face and shoving a closed fist towards her sister. “Now you just need to Believe It!”

Groaning despondently at the abject horror spewing from the blonde’s mouth, Ruby collapsed onto the table in front of her, hoping against hope that her ears had deceived her, and she hadn’t actually heard those sickening words.

“Hold on a moment, I’m not sure I understand,” Weiss said, shifting her gaze from one sister to the other. “Why exactly is Ruby imitating a dying raccoon on our table?”

This time it was Yang’s turn to be disappointed, fixing her roommate with a thoroughly discouraged stare. “Weiss, don’t you dare tell me that we’ve lived together for five years. Five whole years! And you can’t spot a Naruto reference that blindingly obvious. Betrayed doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling right now.”

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a sigh that somehow managed to capture the entirety of human suffering in one concise breath. Now some naysayers will wonder how a sigh could possibly convey such depth of meaning, but none of them have ever had the chance to meet Weiss Schnee, so I suppose they may be forgiven. Truly, she is a master and a craftswoman of a most subtle art. 

With a shared chuckle at the sheer absurdity of their conversation, the three roommates settled back in to their well-established tradition of delivery pizza Saturdays, a nigh irreproachable custom Yang and Weiss had started their first year of college. Originally intended to be a dorm-room only affair, the ritual had continued when they decided to rent an off-campus apartment together and even outlasted their stint in college. At that time, Saturday night pizza was usually shared with Ruby, who had moved in with her sister when she started attending Beacon University, and whoever was currently renting the fourth room, typically a friend or classmate of Yang’s. But now that the two older girls had graduated college and joined the world of young professionals, they were having a bit of trouble finding someone to fill the apartment’s empty room. Being out of the campus loop had its downsides, and even after having an advertisement for the room online for several months, they had only gotten a handful of interested messages. Luckily for them however, a promising message had come through about two weeks prior from an out of town woman looking to rent the fourth room. After some more online messages and a few phone calls, the three roommates felt marginally certain she wasn’t an axe murderer and had agreed for her to come and live with them.

“Ugh, where is this girl? She said she’d be here today and its already six o’ clock,” Yang complained, checking her phone. “My shift starts in an hour, and she hasn’t even showed up yet.”

“You’re still on the late shift? You’d think that after working there for two years they’d actually give you some hours that didn’t require your schedule to be so askew.”

Yang sighed, “that’s just how the cookie crumbles, Weiss. Besides, they’d have to find someone to replace me and as we both know, there’s no one anywhere near as good as me at handling sloppy drunks.”

“That was one time, you brute! And I believe we both agreed to never bring it up again,” Weiss said, finger pointed in accusation at her longtime roommate.

“Well to me, it sounds like you’re the one bringing it up. I certainly didn’t say anything about your drinking habits, just my ability to deal with those who can’t handle themselves after a few glasses of the good stuff.” Without even the slightest hint of acknowledging Weiss’ glare, the blonde threw both hands behind her head, leaning back nonchalantly in her chair.

However, before Weiss could deliver on the silent threat her scowl gravely promised, the three young women heard a knock on their front door.

“Well, well, well, speak of the devil, and she shall appear. Five Lien says that’s the new girl out front,” Yang said, heading towards the door with a grin.

“No one’s going to ever bet against you, Yang. Need I remember you of the Fried Chicken Incident?” Ruby shot back, joining her sister on a course for the door.

“Cowards, the both of you!” Yang replied, grin somehow widening to even more ludicrously impudent proportions. After taking a moment to check through the peephole, she threw the door wide open, revealing the woman standing outside. As her sister went through a quick confirmation that their visitor was indeed the woman seeking to be their newest roommate, Ruby, paused to take a closer look.

From her scuffed black boots to the deep purple stocking cap covering the top of her head, the woman stood a couple inches taller than Ruby and although a casual observer might be tempted to describe her as calm, the injustice of such a descriptor cannot be understated. You see, the word calm connotates a kind of placidity, of emotional or physical inaction. A lake is calm. Such a description is unjust because stillness should never be mistaken for indolence. True, this woman was quiet or unhurried in her movements, but in the same way that a lion not on the hunt is quiet, a kind of imperturbation born not in laziness, but in confidence. The confidence that no threat or situation was beyond her, that if driven into a corner, there existed no doubt in her mind that she could carry out an appropriately formidable response. 

Of course, Ruby wouldn’t know all this for some time yet. For the moment all she saw was a fiendishly beautiful woman wearing a smile and a pair of very flattering skinny jeans.

“Alright let’s run through the introductions first. I’m Yang Xiao-Long, very nice to meet you,” the blonde said, offering the woman her hand.

“Blake Belladonna,” she replied, giving the offered hand a firm shake. “Its good to finally meet in person.”

“She speaks the truth,” Yang declared before jerking her thumb behind her, pointing towards the apartment’s kitchen area. “That’s Weiss back there, no doubt trying to scarf down the last of the pizza while the rest of us are distracted.”

“Yang, I’m going to throw something at you,” her roommate responded with another poisonous glare before turning to their newest roommate and putting on a much friendlier smile. “Don’t mind her Blake, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“And last but certainly not least, is Ruby, my little sister,” Yang said patting Ruby’s head affectionately. “And don’t let the name fool you, she really is a gem.”

“I think I’m going to throw something at you too,” Ruby responded dryly. “Welcome to the apartment Blake, we’re all really glad you’re hear.”

“I am too, Ruby.” Blake gave her new roommates another smile before heading inside to inspect her new home.  
...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Ruby shifted her hands uncomfortably around the edge of what had become just another cardboard box in the long train of boxes her and her new roommate had carried up from Blake’s car, a reminder that the worst part of moving in to a new apartment is moving all your things into that apartment. As the buildings frightfully old elevator tortoised its way towards their floor, Ruby cast a sidelong glance at her companion, who, despite carrying a box much heavier than the one in Ruby’s arms, seemed no more inconvenienced by it than if she were carrying a box of paper clips. Of course, the conversation between two relative strangers in an elevator is never the liveliest affair, but Ruby desperately trying not to imagine whatever Blake’s arms must look like to carry such a load so effortlessly certainly wasn’t helping matters. However, before the young woman’s awkwardness at trying to contain the gay reached critical mass, it was broken by her new friend, totally oblivious to Ruby’s attempts to develop x-ray vision and look through her sleeves.

“I probably shouldn’t be asking this, as I just met them a few minutes ago, but what happened to Yang and Weiss? Did you pull the short stick and have to help me move in?”

“That’s what I’m asking,” Ruby grumbled, once again trying to get a better grip on the box in her arms. She sighed, “I probably shouldn’t say that either, Yang left for work right after you got here; she works at a bar so late shift on Saturday nights isn’t that odd. And Weiss, well, there’s a fifty/fifty chance of her either getting some work done in her room or she’s in the middle of a bubble bath. It’s a toss-up really.”

Blake cracked a grin, “Should’ve known Weiss was the type to take casual bubble baths.”

“According to Yang, she even rigged up some kind of DIY bath in their dorm’s showers. But this is Yang we’re talking about, so I have no idea if that’s actually true or not, and you better believe I’m not going to ask Weiss about it.”

“Duly noted,” Blake replied, face scrunched up in mock earnestness. After another quick moment of awkward silence, she turned back to Ruby with another question. “While we’re on the subject, I should probably ask if those two are…together. I don’t mean to pry, just felt it was better to ask than to start assuming anything.”

With a ding the ancient elevator door slid open and the two young women began making their way down the hallway towards their apartment.

“Technically no, they aren’t. But coming from someone who has lived with them for a few years, that could change at any moment,” said Ruby, internally flashing back to the last time the two of them got drunk together; Yang had gone off on some rambling speech about how important Weiss was to her as a person while the smaller girl sobbed into the blonde’s shoulder in between hiccups. Ruby silently renewed her decision to never get drunk on cheap wine around anyone she found even remotely attractive.

By this time, the two of them had reached their front door, and Blake effortlessly shifted the box she was carrying onto one arm, using the other to fish around for her new room key and open up the door. For her part, Ruby liked to think of herself as being fairly in-shape; she had been a star member of her high school track team after all. She was far from just the flower petal in the wind her sister sometimes joked about her being, but she had struggled with even lifting that box out of the trunk of Blake’s car let alone carry it all the way up through the painfully long elevator ride. Yet this woman was carrying all that on just one arm and seemed about as perturbed about it as if the box was filled with nothing more than paper towels and bubble wrap. Ruby did her best to try and not imagine what she would look like in a gym, decked out in workout gear, muscles made proudly visible with each weight being lifted. Needless to say, Ruby was failing pretty miserably.

“Thanks for all your help moving me in, one more trip and I think we’ll have got it all,” Blake said, giving Ruby an appreciative nod as the two walked through the apartment’s front door. “And before I forget to tell you, I’m glad I chose to move in here. Good place, and I think it’s got some good people too.”

Ruby’s response was meant to sound clever, but it all came rushing out in a jumble as Blake flashed her an easy smile. Despite her best intentions, Ruby spent their last trip on the elevator trying to hide a blush. Not exactly the easiest task, especially when the cause of that blush was only a few feet from her the entire way, but if Blake noticed her new roommate’s reddened cheeks, she made no mention of it.  
...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

_To Montag, a fire was a lot like a person. Or perhaps, a purer version of a person, free of all the constraints and inhibitions we so arbitrarily place upon ourselves. As wise or enlightened as we might think ourselves, fire understands one simple truth that we do not. You see, fire and people are made up of just one thing: desire, and desire requires consumption, requires the destruction of the way things are purely for the pleasure of satisfaction. Fire doesn’t fear that truth either, it consumes and consumes and consumes until there is nothing left to take. It revels in its own carnage, dancing with drunken glee in the air that feeds it._

__

__

_Montag took a moment to watch the tiny licks of flame play between his fingers, contrasting sharply with the dark gray of his gloves. He loved these small moments of appreciation, when all he desired were the sparks and flares created purely from his own power. Of course, that’s not to say he didn’t adore the massive blazes he had set over the years; the ones that roared and ravaged, the ones that beckoned and leaped, with a hunger like sin. Montag looked up from his blazing hand, and watched as the timbers fell around him, chairs and desks disappearing into the passion that surrounded them. He watched the office workers desperately covering their mouths to avoid the smoke, crouched low and running away, towards the exit behind him. For another moment he continued to take it all in, before raising both hands and sending out bursts of molten fire, at once both a finale and a death knoll._


	2. Part Two

### Part Two: October 16 – Evening

  
As Ruby worked, the rest of the world seemed to fade into a distant fog. One by one, the low drone of the tv, the tapping of keys coming from Weiss’ position on the couch, and the irregular click-clacking of Blake washing dishes in the sink all melted into the background. Everything beyond the scope of the tablet and papers scattered in front of her had become unnecessary, irrelevant, not a single thing to worry or think about. With a pen in her hand, and a problem in front of her, Ruby’s world simplified.

  
Her first order of business was assessing the inner mechanics of the wrist mounted cannon first designed and popularized three years prior by a number of top-tier heroes. Dubbed the L3-X400 and designed by legendary technician, Bolero, it was a wonder of modern engineering when it was first created, and only marginally less so now. As with any suit-based projectile weaponry, the X400 as it was popularly known, had three primary design elements, the actual ‘cannon’ part of it which accelerated the payload to sufficient speeds, the specific way it folded into the gauntlet of the user, and the trigger mechanism itself. Ruby had downloaded a few basic blueprints off the internet, as well as the original patent information and was currently in the process of trying to figure out how exactly this marvel ticked.

  
Beginning with the firearm itself, the device seemed simple at first blush, but grew in complexity quite sharply after a minute or two of research. One of the true strengths of the X400 model was its flexibility, coming with a wide array of customizable parts; each building block could be switched out in exchange for a completely new set of specs. The base model fired Bolero’s proprietary cannon cartridges; similar to a shotgun shell, these cartridges consisted of a primer which would be hit by the cannon’s hammer after a ‘pull’ of the trigger, a very specific amount of smokeless powder acting as the primary propellant, plastic wadding used to even out the force applied by the propellant, and a slightly oblong ‘cannon ball’ which served as the projectile itself. As a standard, these were rubber, though more lethal metal alternatives were available (however the legal consequences of using them outside of self-defense could be sharp). This particular setup is and was quite widely used, but just about everything about it could be changed with only a few minutes on the worktable. For example, the cannon cartridges could be replaced with more traditional shotgun shells with only a few tweaks to the loading mechanism, though birdshot was warned against as the shortness of the barrel led to excessively large spread over even a short distance. While these two kinds of cartridges were primarily intended for close quarters, Bolero had included options for those who preferred a long-range alternative. Much of the loading system as well as the barrel itself could be switched to accommodate .38 caliber bullets made of plastic, wood, rubber, or metal. As a change to the original cannon design as well, the relevant barrel was also rifled on the inside, adding to the overall accuracy of the weapon.

  
In Ruby’s mind, the simple number of options available to users of the X400 was nothing short of a triumph of engineering. After puzzling out and notating the kind of tools needed to switch between the various loading mechanisms available, she moved on to its mounting within the attached gauntlet. Once again, Bolero had included nearly unprecedented levels of customizability, the cannon being able to fit within a wide variety of different gauntlet styles with only minor modifications necessary. Of course, the real genius of this particular section of the design lay in just how elegantly it could be retracted into the gauntlet, lying completely flush with the outermost layer so as to be undetectable by cursory examinations. With a simple button press on the inside of the wrist, the barrel would be exposed along with a number of supporting metal struts, each attached to a powerful spring meant for shock absorption, in turn reducing the recoil of the weapon and undue stress on the user’s forearm.

  
After another quick set of notes on the arrangement of the shock absorbers, Ruby shook her head in silent appreciation of the technical prowess and ingenuity that went into making such a weapon. However, her studies were not yet complete, and she moved on to the final puzzle piece of the X400, the trigger mechanism. From her earlier investigations, she had noticed bits of wiring running from the primary cannon all the way to the fingertips of whatever gloves were attached to the gauntlet being used. For confirmation she checked back in on the diagrams made available in the original patent information and found that the firing sequence was intended to be started by touching small patches of conductive metal attached to-

 

A strong hand gripped Ruby’s shoulder, the sudden shock of it causing her to jerk in her chair before looking up to meet a pair of deep amber eyes. “Hi,” she squeaked out.

  
“Hi yourself,” Blake replied, an amused smile spreading languidly across her face. For a moment, Ruby found herself caught up in the feeling of the woman’s hand on her shoulder: that special, warm gravitas of having another person so close to her.

  
“Ruby, you absolute dolt!” Weiss said from atop her perch on the couch, snapping her younger roommate from her reverie. While she had been working on picking apart the X400’s design, Weiss had entrenched herself within a nest of sorts, made up of a laptop, a handful of books, a whole host of newspaper clippings, and more notes written in patented Schnee shorthand than most people would care to count. In other words, exactly where the young journalist could normally be found on work nights. She sighed, letting the sharpness ease from her face. “Sorry for snapping at you Ruby, but I’ve called your name like four times. What could you possibly be working on that is _that_ interesting?”

  
“Oh, you know, just my homework for my Applications of Composite Engineering Design for Offense Optimized Suit Matrices class,” Ruby replied before looking up to see two pairs of confused eyes blinking back at her. “In English, right,” she said shaking her head, “you know all the cool tech stuff the really big superheroes have in their suits? Like jet packs or VR displays in their cowls? Its how to design and make that kind of thing.”

  
Weiss nodded her understanding, but Blake’s brow momentarily furrowed. “That sounds really…advanced. That’s really a class they teach to undergrads?” she asked.

  
“Well…um…no, not exactly,” Ruby said, sheepishly breaking eye contact. “I had to get special permission from Dean Ozpin to take it. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one in there without at least one degree.”

  
Upon Blake’s raised eyebrow, Weiss turned to her. “Right, it seems we forgot to tell you about that. Ruby’s our very own aspiring genius. She received a letter from the dean’s office last year about her studies being so exemplary that they wanted her to start taking graduate level classes. Yang looked like she was about to _literally_ burst with pride when she found out.”

  
“…I’m not a genius…” Ruby mumbled, her eyes now far too shy to meet those of either of her roommates. But as embarrassment began to fully color her cheeks, she glanced upwards and caught what suspiciously looked like the ghost of a smile on Blake’s lips.

  
“Speaking of which,” Weiss continued, “even though you are a genius, that doesn’t mean you aren’t still a dolt. What I was going to say to you earlier is that it’s almost nine o’clock and I know you wouldn’t want to miss your show.”

  
“Ohmygosh! Thanks Weiss!” said Ruby, her entire face lighting up, all traces of her earlier embarrassment having completely vanished. In a single smooth motion, she took a couple steps from the table and vaulted over the back of the couch, landing next to Weiss’ nest of work-notes. And not a moment too soon either as the VNN logo blazed its way across the screen accompanied by its signature jingle which played uncomfortably loud in the apartment as Ruby suddenly unmuted the tv.

  
“Good evening and welcome to _Powerful_ , where we collect all the latest news on local heroes, villains, new research into powered individuals, as well as unique, inside looks into the lives of these very special members of society. I’m your host Lisa Lavender. My first guest tonight is VNN’s very own Dr. Philip Bliss, supervillain expert and researcher at…”

  
“Ooooh,” Ruby cooed from her position on the couch. “He’s been on the show a bunch lately. Apparently, he’s done some work with one of the labs on campus. I’ve never actually seen him in person though.”

 

“Isn’t he the one who’s beard has its own social media page?” Weiss asked.

  
“Yup. And you better believe I follow it on twitter,” Ruby said, pointedly ignoring Weiss’ tasteful eye roll.

  
“…ank you for me having me on again Lisa; very happy to be here.”

  
“Now Dr. Bliss, I think the questions on everyone’s mind these days all center around the notorious villain Montag, who has been in Vale now for almost three weeks. His attack on the Nakatomi building on the night of the 28th left fourteen people dead and dozens wounded. The fires near the southern end of the docks two days ago were also attributed to him. I think a lot of people, me included, are hoping you can make some sense of these heinous attacks.”

  
As Lisa Lavender ran through her introduction, Blake had quietly wandered towards the main living space and began to lean against the back of the sofa, watching alongside her two roommates. Her presence didn’t escape Ruby’s notice or attention. Ruby had recently realized that over the past few weeks, she had been paying quite a lot of attention to the dark-haired woman. She hadn’t been directly focusing on Blake, just very aware of her and whatever she was doing whenever the two shared space.

  
“Well, Lisa I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m not sure how much comfort I can provide in the face of such senseless violence,” Dr. Bliss said, a serious look on his face. “But at the very least I can share with you and your viewers everything we know about this villain.

  
“First and foremost is his power. He has been officially put into the specialist classification with only one known, non-physical power. As we all know, Montag can create and manipulate fire with his mind, an extremely useful and destructive ability. However, what truly makes him special is that he can control fire long after its been created, as well as fire that didn’t originate from him. Based on this information we believe his power works similarly to that of Vahakn who can control flames by manipulating the oxygen content of a specific area. When it is heavily concentrated, Oxygen is highly flammable, so by making a particular space full of oxygen and nothing else, any spark could start a massive fire, as well as force existing flame to migrate wherever he wants it to. We still don’t know how he starts the fires: where the spark comes from. It could be his power includes actually starting the fire, or it could come from a mechanism built into his suit. We’re still not sure on that point.

  
“As for his history or identity, very little is known. He was first seen in Mistral two years ago during a devastating attack on a shopping mall. Since then he’s pulled off over thirty separate attacks across both Mistral and, more recently, Vacuo.”

  
“It was after the attack on the Vacuo Federal Building that he came here to Vale, correct?” Lisa, asked, cutting in to Dr. Bliss’ monologue.

  
“That’s right Lisa, though there was quite a bit of time between that horrible event and his first strike in Vale. During the four months in between those two attacks, his whereabouts were entirely unknown.

  
“Now the main question about Montag that has so far completely stumped every villain expert across Remnant centers around his personal ideology or motivations. Simply put, we don’t have a clue. He’s never used his powers to rob anyone or otherwise pursue monetary gain. He’s never made any attempt at presenting a political ideology nor used his infamy for a cause or any other kind of activism. Even his choice of targets is completely random. While there are a ton of theories out there, none have gained significant traction. Trying to predict where he strikes next feels like throwing a dart at a map and hoping you’re right.”

  
“You said there are a number of theories out there, is there any single one that seems more likely than the rest? Like, if I were forcing you to pick one, which would you personally go for?”

  
“To be honest Lisa, I really wish you wouldn’t force me,” Dr. Bliss said with a slight chuckle. “Some of the best minds inside and out of the powered community have been banging their heads against a wall for two years and still have nothing. One of the more popular theories these days is that he uses some kind of random number generator to pick his targets, but that’s one of maybe fifteen different possibilities that are currently being thrown around.”

  
“Hmm, that’s a lot of troubling information to think about, but don’t fret just yet,” Lisa Lavender said, turning directly towards the camera. “We’ll be right back to discuss more news in the local powered community, this time on the heroes’ side. Stay tuned.”

  
Throughout Dr. Bliss’ entire spiel, Ruby’s attention was unfailingly fixed upon the screen, taking in as much information as was humanly possible. Nothing the villain expert had said was particularly new, especially not to Ruby who had spent many a late night trawling through forums and message boards, however a handful of the pictures used as background graphics she’d never seen before; several were even from the recent attacks in Vale. A handful were pictures of buildings ablaze or maps showing his previous targets, but the majority were grainy shots of a somewhat average-built man in a head-to-toe, dark gray suit with a mechanized breathing apparatus over the mouth and eyeholes covered with a specific kind of heat-resistant glass.

  
Unlike most other supervillains whose flamboyant suits had been designed to garner attention, Montag’s was one hundred percent function over form. For Ruby, who had spent years learning all she could about the way these suits were made, both through her work as a student and as a curious young woman with an internet connection, a handful of things stood out about this decision. First and most obvious was the motivation behind such a person purposely going drab over stylish. However, the ugly appearance of the suit belied just how advanced it was technologically, which prompted the question of where exactly he had gotten it. From his earliest attacks, Montag had quickly been classified as a specialist, but machining a suit of that level of quality was usually left for technicians, one of the other four subsets of powered individuals which had historically been associated with creating this kind of tech. Montag’s possession of such a suit could imply a few things: did he have an accomplice create and maintenance his suit? was the black market for technicians bigger than the official estimates? was he holding a technician hostage? The possibilities seemed as endless as they were malicious.

  
“Ruby. You’re getting into that _zone_ of yours again,” Weiss said from beside her, giving Ruby a flick on the shoulder to emphasize her point.

  
“Oh, huh, I guess I was…” Ruby said while scratching the back of her head and chuckling in mild embarrassment.

  
After taking another moment to clear her head, Ruby snuck a glance at Blake, who was still leaning against the coach behind her. She too seemed to be lost in thought, staring straight ahead at the tv without really seeing any of the overly cheery commercials that ran across it. Absentmindedly she readjusted the dark-colored beanie that sat atop her head, one of about five that she seemed to keep in rotation. Now that she thought about it, Ruby realized that Blake was always wearing some kind of hat, even when indoors. Odd as that realization might be it wasn’t the strangest thing in the world and definitely not the strangest thing the apartment had seen over the years, so she mentally shrugged it off. Perhaps the apartment was a little colder than she was used to, or maybe she had a bald spot or something. Or maybe she just liked hats, no need to overcomplicate things.

  
With a second backwards glance she noticed that Blake had begun to play with a lock of hair that had escaped from its usual position behind her ear, now dangling beside her cheekbone. Unconscious as it may be, it was possibly the cutest thing Ruby could ever imagine. There was just something so quietly endearing about it. Blake was always reserved and guarded in her mannerisms so seeing such an easy movement seemed…kind of special honestly.

  
As Ruby felt the earliest hints of her cheeks heating up, she internally shook her head, shutting down that particular line of thought before it got even sappier. Hadn’t she just decided not to overcomplicate things?

  
With the last commercial fading to black, VNN’s trademark logo lit up the screen, replaced seconds later by the familiar anchor’s face.

  
“For those of you just joining, you’re watching VNN, Vale’s most trusted news network. I’m Lisa Lavender, and this is _Powerful_ , the show where we discuss all the latest news involving heroes, villains, the powered community, and their role in the world of Remnant. Right now, I’m sitting here with Dr. Anna Amalia, renowned expert on heroes and professor of Powered Ethics and Responsibilities at Haven University. Thank you very much for being with us here tonight, Dr. Amalia.”

  
“I’m more than happy to be here Lisa,” Dr. Amalia said, cracking a professional smile as the camera panned towards her.

  
“And we’re happy to have you. One of the most fun parts of my job as an anchor covering the powered community is talking about individuals choosing to take on the mantle of hero for the first time. Over the past few days we’ve been reporting on just such an individual. At first, we thought that she was making her debut here in Vale, but we recently learned from our affiliates in the other kingdoms that she’s actually been active for several years. Dr. Amalia, do you mind sharing with us everything we know about this woman?”

  
“First off, I must object to using the term hero, the more accurate word would be vigilante considering how questionable her actions have been in the past.” As the hero expert began speaking a series of images began playing in the background showing a lithe looking woman with long black hair kept out of her face by a plastic mask covering the top half of her face. Below that was a black bandanna obscuring the rest, mouth, nose, and chin. However, the most noteworthy details in these pictures were the two black cat ears poking out of the top of her head.

  
“Starting with a timeline, she first debuted as a member of an extremist splinter group of powered individuals within the White Fang. These so-called ‘revolutionaries’, led by notorious terrorist, Bull, have claimed responsibility for dozens of heinous attacks across Remnant resulting in catastrophic destruction of property and even loss of life.”

  
Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby noticed that right after hearing the name Bull, Blake’s hand had stopped playing with her hair, and dropped to a more guarded position clutching the back of the couch.

  
“Although her efforts within this group were largely clandestine, we do have confirmed reports of her being involved in deadly attacks against several major corporations as well as a number of smaller businesses which refused service to Faunus customers. Despite this string of crimes, she seems to have had a change of heart in the last few years, leaving Bull’s faction as well as the White Fang as a whole. A little over two years ago, she was first seen acting as a hero, taking down several villains singlehandedly on the island of Menagerie.” With this, the background image changed from pictures of the masked woman to a map of the island alongside a circular symbol featuring a particularly colorful coat of arms surrounded by the words ‘The Great Seal of the Nation of Menagerie – Unbowed and Unafraid’

  
“Since then she’s moved around quite a bit, having been seen in Mistral, Vacuo, and a number of smaller towns that exist outside of the jurisdiction of the four kingdoms. Due to her fondness for working at night as well as her power’s propensity for stealth, the powered community largely refers to her as ‘Sable’, though a number of other names have been used in the past, many of which are references to her Faunus heritage.”

  
“A Faunus superhero? In Vale?” Weiss said, speaking incredulously over the tv. “What will they think of next?”

  
In response, Ruby made a hushing motion at her while her eyes remained fixed on the screen. “Shhh, I want to watch this!” Weiss rolled her eyes at that, but dutifully quieted down as the expert on tv continued speaking.

  
“-at’s right. She has yet to speak with the media directly, so we haven’t had anything to go on regarding her current political motivations.”

  
“She’s never spoken with the media? And I believe you said she’s been active for several years now, so I’m a little surprised.”

  
“Correct. Its somewhat of an oddity for heroes as a whole, but not particular rare for Faunus heroes. The few powered Faunus that live outside of Menagerie tend to live very private lives and avoid the media in order to maintain their hidden identities. While anti-powered sentiment is at an all-time low, the same can’t be said for the modern strain of vitriolic racism directed at the Faunus, especially any with ties to the White Fang,” Dr. Amalia said, her face souring from its previously detached nonchalance.

  
At this point more photos of Sable began sliding across the background behind the hero expert and Lisa Lavender. These seemed to be a collection of wide shots which afforded Ruby an excellent opportunity to get a look at this new hero’s suit. Most of the body of the outfit consisted of conjoined pieces of darkened leather with small bits of metal and what appeared to be Kevlar placed strategically over vital areas. It was smart and functional in a basic sort of way, though the piecemeal approach to armor made it seem somewhat DIY or amateurish depending on how charitable the viewer might be. To Ruby’s trained eyes she could see a number of minute flaws throughout the suit, uneven seams, a poorly fitted collar that bunched up around the shoulders, and a dangerous lack of protection underneath the arms. In all likelihood, this Sable probably made this suit herself rather than going to a technician; an understandable, if risky, decision. Needless to say, Ruby already had half a dozen ideas running through her head on potential designs for a more professionally engineered suit.

  
“If you don’t mind professor, could you spend a moment talking about her power?” asked the news anchor. “You mentioned earlier that it has something to do with stealth; could you elaborate on that?”  
“Of course. Even when Sable was a member of the White Fang, we had her pegged for the trickster classification with three minor powers under her control. Firstly, she can send out an identical clone of herself which is indistinguishable from the original, though it cannot move or attack. If hit, it vanishes, but if left alone, it can exist indefinitely. Originally, we believed this to be a psychic-based ability, somehow transmitting a static image of herself telepathically to everyone in her immediate vicinity, but that theory was proven incorrect after these so-called ‘shadow clones’ were seen on a security camera.

  
“Additionally, she appears to have some kind of ability to muffle or nullify any sounds she makes, being completely silent, even while running or fighting. It’s entirely possible that this is simply a piece of highly advanced tech built into her suit, however we consider this highly unlikely and have put it in with her other powers.

  
“Her third confirmed ability is a short, dash-style teleport not dissimilar to Strider’s primary power. The main difference being that Sable’s has a much smaller range with just about all of her recorded teleportations being around ten to fifteen feet. We’re not entirely sure of the physics of this one, whether its some form of localized time distortion or if she can use some kind of naturally occurring propellant or something we’re not familiar with at all. Unfortunately, unless we test this in a controlled environment, I doubt we’ll ever really understand the machinations behind this.”

  
“Well, maybe someday; hoping never hurt anybody. Thank you so much for joining us tonight Dr. Amalia, it was a pleasure to have you on. After these messages we’ll have an exclusive interview VNN recently conducted with Apotheosis on her thoughts about being officially rated the number one hero in the bruiser classification. And make sure you stay tuned for our ongoing coverage of the six year anniversary of the death of Ludovico the Tyrant. We’ll be right back after this.”

  
“Ugh, that Apotheosis interview again? They’ve been showing it every day for the past week,” Weiss complained as the first of the commercials began rolling. “Yes, it was good, but not that good.”

  
For her part, Ruby appeared to still be lost in thought, mumbling possibilities for a suit that could work for Sable. “…of course there’d need to be thicker soles for if her teleportation ability requires some kind of kick-off to start it…a deeper tread wouldn’t be a problem either if she can muffle the sound of footfalls…definitely could use more protection around the arms, though how to do that without losing speed or comfort…she seems kind of nimble and anything that hinders higher dexterity functions could cause a definite loss in fighting ability…”

  
After another few seconds thinking through how other powered heroes with trickster classifications dealt with protection problems she seemed to snap out of it saying, “maybe I should draw up a few possible designs and turn it in to my professor. I could probably get a few extra credit points for that right? What do you two think?” As she turned towards Weiss and Blake, she realized that the dark-haired woman had disappeared from her place behind the couch at some point during the news broadcast. After a quick scan of the apartment, it appeared she was gone completely, perhaps back into her own room.

  
Weiss, apparently more indifferent to Blake’s sudden absence than Ruby, shrugged noncommittedly. “Ehh, I don’t know your professor so maybe, maybe not. However, something tells me you’re going to design something anyways. Or three designs, knowing you.” She sighed, “Its getting late, so I should probably start packing. Your sister won’t be back from work until after midnight, but she definitely said she wanted to get on the road early tomorrow morning.”

  
“I still can’t believe Yang convinced you to take her on this company retreat thing again this year. You didn’t talk to each other for like a week after you got back last time.”

  
Weiss closed her eyes in exasperation. “Trust me when I say I don’t have any idea why I agreed to this. A week and a half of the two of us in a cabin with almost all of my coworkers should just be a nightmare and not an actual thing that’s happening. I’d ask you to wish me luck, but I don’t think luck is going to be enough to get me through this.”

  
“Well, if you need to vent, my phone’s always on.”

  
“That’s very kind of you Ruby, but if I do any venting its going to be while wine drunk at three in the morning,” she deadpanned. “And as much as I call you a dolt, you _really_ don’t deserve to experience that.”

  
“Thank you?” Ruby said with a tone that implied she was still trying to figure out if Weiss had just complimented her or not.

  
“You’re welcome. Now I really do need to get packing, so good night Ruby. Don’t forget to finish your homework that’s still completely covering the only table we have in this apartment.”

  
As Weiss padded back to her bedroom, Ruby settled once more into her place at the dinner table, finishing up her notes on the L3-X400 and filing them away for when she began to write her final essay for the class. It was almost midnight by the time she finally made it back to her room, collapsing contentedly into her bed. In those last few moments of quiet before sleep took her, Ruby’s thoughts strayed back and forth before finally landing on the dark-haired woman she now shared an apartment with. Her hand on Ruby’s shoulder while trying to get her attention. The way she played with a loose strand of hair when she thought no one was looking. That small smile of hers that barely seemed to touch her lips yet lit up every corner of her face like the midday sun. As dreams took her, Ruby’s last thoughts were of Blake. She had good dreams that night.  
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_Sable’s lungs screamed in protest as she desperately tried to quiet her breathing. The smoke was everywhere now, had even reached her position hiding behind a broken and splintered conference table. Every direction she looked, her eyes met only fire, roaring with unbridled fury, dancing with a monstrous intent. Sable was running out of options fast, the only factor on her side was her currently undiscovered hiding place, and even that wouldn’t last long. Her powers were basically useless at this point, nowhere to teleport, no way to sneak out, and no point in making a clone that would disappear the moment it touched fire. As the sweat seemed to stream from every pore she scrunched her eyes shut; she needed a plan, any plan, and she needed one fast._

  
_“Where are you, Kitty Cat? I want to see you again… Won’t you run back to me?” Montag’s voice didn’t filter through his breathing mask as much as it was slowly torn out. It rasped and crawled through the air and smoke, as horrible and inhuman as the roaring flames. Sable was panicking now, there wasn’t any possibility to fight back and nowhere to run. From her hiding place she saw a patch of flames across the hallway seem to pick itself up from the ground, levitating impossibly before flying away and out of her field of view. “Oh, I guess you weren’t there. Come on, Kitty Cat, heroes aren’t supposed to hide!”_

  
_Barely holding in a cough, Sable took another look across the hallway of the offices, and through the spot where the flames had just been, she could see all the way to the outside wall of the building. Finally, some luck. An outside wall meant windows, and that meant escape. Sable took as deep a breath as the smoke allowed; going through a reinforced window this many stories above the ground was going to hurt really fucking bad. Headfirst through plate glass was suicide, brace with a shoulder and she’d get struck with every shard of glass, but she’d probably survive it. Probably._

  
_However, one option was better than none; if she could just make it back to her apartment, she would be safe. No guarantees, but she had a shot and she was going to take it. These flames would not have her. Covering her face with one arm she activated her dash, hoping against hope that she could only make it home._


	3. Pain and Understanding

### Part Three: October 19th – Midnight

  
_Blood trickled down the inside of Sable’s suit like sweat; each footstep brought a new explosion of pain in her shoulder and the unmoving leg she dragged along. Every inch she moved was a victory not won through willpower, but through the fear and desperation that now colored her entire world. With only a few more lengths of hallway until her apartment door, home was almost in sight, though Sable no longer cared if that meant safety, or merely a warm place to die._

  
_For a moment, she allowed herself the pleasure of envying those who lived their lives peacefully, never knowing the impossible ardor of fighting for every shallow breath. As her door came into view, shaking fingers slick with blood fished out the keys she kept in a zippered pocket inside the suit. Not long now. Not long at all. It wasn’t until the fourth try that the key slid into place, the door swinging wide a moment later. With the last of her strength, Sable slammed it closed again, managing just a few more stumbling footsteps before the floor rushed upwards to meet her._  
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Ruby watched silently, wide-eyed, as the masked figure crawled across her living room floor. The black-clad woman was covered in bits of broken glass, most jutting out from her suit like darts in a dartboard. Her right arm was held close to her chest, obviously favoring some kind of injury, though Ruby couldn’t tell for certain how bad it was from this distance. However, what Ruby did know was that this was the same woman she had seen on the news countless times in the last week: Sable, the former White Fang member turned vigilante.

  
With one arm, the Faunus woman tried to drag her body up and onto the couch before slipping and hitting the floor with an agonizing howl of pain. Even from her position across the room, Ruby could hear the woman’s labored breathing, eventually turning into a growl of frustration. “No…” she whispered, eyes screwed shut. In one motion, Sable ripped the plastic mask and bandana from her face, twisting around to prop her back up against the front of the sofa.

  
To say that Ruby recognized the woman’s face wouldn’t be doing the situation justice. Ruby recognized every inch of it. She recognized it from dozens of stolen glances and little smiles. From dreams half remembered in morning’s first light. From idle fancies that filled the long hours of the day and made her smile on moonless nights. In that moment of realization, all of Remnant stood still, seeming to fall away in the space between breaths.

  
“Blake?”

  
At the sound of her trembling voice, amber eyes shot open, noticing the smaller woman standing across the room for the first time. Fear washed over her face, feline ears dropping flat against the top of her head.

  
“Ruby? I’m so sorry, I…”

  
For a moment, Ruby’s mind spun with questions. Blake was a Faunus? Why had she hidden that? How had she gotten into this situation? Who had done this to her? But all these questions paled in importance to the one monumental fact that grew and grew inside Ruby’s head until it was the only thought she was capable of: Blake was hurt. Blake was hurt. _Blake was hurt_. Confronted with this one overpowering thought, a sense of calm washed through Ruby’s mind. She had a problem in front of her, and as the familiar feeling of everything beyond the scope of the problem at hand faded into the background, every fiber of her being was now focused on fixing that problem, on making sure that Blake made it through this. Shock was replaced with steel and determination, silver eyes filling with single-minded purpose.

  
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Ruby said, walking towards, and kneeling next to Blake’s position on the floor.

  
“No! No hospitals,” Blake replied, mustering as much force as she could into that statement, though it came off far more desperate than she intended. “They can’t – They can’t know who I am. Promise me, Ruby.” Reaching forward with her left hand, Blake grabbed weakly at the smaller woman’s arm. “Please.”

  
Ultimately it was the fear in Blake’s eyes, that horrible, horrible fear, that convinced her. Ruby had watched enough news to know what would happen if it became common knowledge that Blake was once associated with the White Fang. She screwed her eyes closed and sighed. “Okay. I promise.”

  
“Thank you,” Blake said, letting her left hand drop to the floor.

  
“Alright, I have a plan.” Ruby looped one arm around Blake’s waist and the other under her knees, careful not to jostle any of the shards of glass still stuck in the dark-haired woman. “Let’s get you up on the sofa. On the count of three: one…two…three!”

  
Digging deep and grunting with exertion, the two women finally fought their way up onto the couch, Blake barely suppressing another howl of pain after jostling her right shoulder. Ruby flinched at the noise. “Are you okay?” she asked instinctually before shaking her head. “Stupid question. You’re bleeding all over the couch, of course you’re not okay. I have a first aid kit back in my room, but I need you to tell me where you’re hurt. Can you do that?”

  
Blake stared at Ruby for a few seconds before finally answering, her voice becoming more concentrated and surgical when she eventually broke her silence. “I think my collarbone on the right side is broken. It hurts to the touch and I can’t move that arm which is…bad. I can’t put any weight on my left ankle, but I think its just a sprain not a break. Plus, there’s the glass…”

  
As Blake was speaking, Ruby motioned for her to continue while she sprinted back to her room to grab the first aid kit, snagging a pair of scissors and an X-ACTO knife from the tool kit she kept in her backpack. Silently thanking her father for forcing her and Yang to attend first aid training before either left for college, she started taking out the equipment she would need to begin putting in sutures. “Alright, our first priority is stopping the bleeding, so I’ll start with the glass. I’m going to cut into your suit around the shards, so I can take them out and then stitch you up. Is that okay?” Ruby continued to draw the alcohol wipe across the length of the needle, but after hearing no answer from her patient, she looked up, only to see Blake staring directly at her. “What?”

  
When Blake’s answer came, her voice was accusatory, occasionally breaking with emotion. “Why aren’t you asking any questions? I’m a Faunus. I used to be in the White Fang. I’m a vigilante for fuck’s sake! I hid everything from you, lied about who I was, and the only thing you’re asking me is if you can try and help me?”

  
“None of that matters now, I can ask about that once you’re better and– “

  
“Why are you even helping me at all?” Blake’s voice had gotten very quiet, and Ruby could see tears forming at the edges of her eyes. “I lied to you! I pretended I was a human so I could get a cheap apartment in Vale and hunt down criminals. And all of that I hid from you! I’m not a hero, I’m barely above the people I’m supposed to be putting in prison. I don’t deserve– “

  
“ _Stop_.” As Ruby cut in, her voice was deadly serious, almost angry in its conviction. “However you were planning to finish that sentence, don’t. I don’t want to hear it. You are my friend, and you are hurt, and I am going to do my absolute best to help you. Everything else comes second. Now, I am going to start taking this glass out of you and stitching up the cuts. _Is that okay?_ ”

  
Blake didn’t have any answer to that, so she said nothing, silently nodding her consent.

  
And so, Ruby got to work, starting with the largest pieces of glass and slowly making her way from wound to wound, using as much care and precision as she could muster. Luckily, none of the glass had made it through the reinforced sections of the suit, the hardened leather, metal, and Kevlar Ruby had noted when seeing pictures of her earlier in the week. She started by using the X-ACTO knife and scissors in tandem to cut a hole around the glass and through the thinner bits of cloth which made up the sides and joints of the armor, where Blake would need mobility over protection while fighting. Next, she would carefully tug the glass shard loose, making sure to have a bandage ready to staunch the initial flow of blood after the wound was opened. To lower the risk of infection, Ruby carefully poured a little bit of Hydrogen Peroxide onto a clean bandage and lightly pressed it against each wound, hoping it would be enough to clean out the worst of the dirt and sweat that might’ve gotten in.

  
The hardest part was the sutures. Stitching up an actual person’s body was much different than the foam practice pads she had used in the first aid course. It took all of her willpower and concentration to keep her hands from shaking. Ruby finished her work on each cut by covering it with a new bandage and affixing it with surgical tape, making sure that even if some of the stitches were pulled out, more loss of blood could be avoided.

  
Through all of this, Blake was remarkably quiet, never once flinching or crying out in pain. Of course, this made it quite difficult to pinpoint exactly when she passed out, Ruby herself only noticed it when she saw that Blake’s eyes were closed and her breathing much more even. At first, this revelation was terrifying, but the taller woman was still breathing fine, and though she had lost a lot of blood, Ruby had sewn up all of the open wounds, so she wasn’t losing any more. In a way, it might even be a blessing, you can’t feel pain when you’re unconscious, and besides, Ruby had no way of waking her back up.

  
Now that the immediate danger of the glass pieces and various lacerations was out of the way, Ruby knew she should move on to what the taller woman had complained about earlier, the broken bones. For a moment, she fiddled around Blake’s suit, trying to find out how to get it off her, so she could get closer to the problem. Eventually she found the top of a zipper right at the base of her neck, though its path was obstructed by a large bit of armor in the middle of her back. After fumbling around for a minute, Ruby found that one side of this bit of armor was only attached to the rest of the suit with a strip of Velcro, allowing it to swing away from the main body of the suit like a door. This allowed the zipper an unfettered path all the way to its ending in Blake’s lower back. It was at this point that Ruby realized that the suit itself was actually two pieces, a jacket-like section covered the torso, while the legs were covered by a separate piece altogether.

  
With utmost care and control, Ruby slid the jacket piece forwards, over Blake’s arms and off her upper body, being as careful as possible not to do any more harm to her collarbone. Once it was off, the rest of the suit became visible, a set of homemade cloth and leather overalls which provided a second layer of protection for the torso as well as armor for the lower body. From here, Ruby slid another zipper down the back of the overalls and ever so carefully slid the shoulder straps away, revealing a black tank top and sports bra underneath. In order to tell how severe the break was, Ruby felt along the collarbone, eventually pinpointing the exact location of the fracture, and much to her relief, found it to be a relatively minor break, still mainly in place, and not poking into the skin anywhere. Despite her relief, the feeling of a fractured bone just beneath the skin was jarring in the worst way possible, made even worse by the fact that it had caused the unconscious woman so much pain. Leaving Blake alone for a moment, Ruby went back into her room, bringing out a clean bedsheet which she folded up a few times before tying one end around the taller woman’s forearm and the other around her neck. This could work for a makeshift sling until they could get more professional help.

  
Moving lower, Ruby started to tug off her patient’s boots, and while one slid off fairly easily, the left needed to be completely unlaced in order to be worked free. The cause of this became immediately apparent once the boot was off; Blake’s ankle had swollen to almost one and a half times its normal size and was covered in angry looking bruises. With a few more careful tugs, Ruby eased the overalls off of the taller woman’s lower body, showing the dark gray running pants she wore beneath. From there, Ruby felt around the swollen ankle, trying her best to figure out if this was a true break or merely a sprain. Although the swelling was severe, the ankle itself didn’t seem particularly misshapen or lodged at an odd angle with most of the bruising around the soft areas rather than close to the bone; all signs of stretching or tearing of a ligament, rather than a fracture. Without an x-ray, Ruby couldn’t tell for certain, but with the tools made available to her, she did the best she could, and concluded that it was most likely a sprain.

  
With that decision made, Ruby made her way to the kitchen grabbing a wash cloth and Ziploc bag on the way. Placing the wash cloth in the sink, she started the cold water before heading to the freezer for ice. After grabbing enough ice to fill the bag, she took the wash cloth from the sink and headed back to Blake’s position in the living room. She took a few pillows and propped up the taller woman’s left ankle, before laying the wet cloth and ice bag over it. With a little luck this would bring down the worst of the swelling and perhaps numb some of the pain for whenever Blake came to.

  
It was only at that point that Ruby finally allowed herself to rest, sinking deep into the armchair that sat a few feet away from where Blake was currently unconscious. However, that rest was purely due to the fact that Ruby didn’t know what else she could do. She had done everything she could for her friend, but now that she had nothing with which to occupy her mind, the focus that had previously kept her doubts and fear at bay was lost, and the sheer horror of the situation began to make itself known. Wherever she looked, all that Ruby could see was the dingy red of blood. It pooled in odd shapes on the floor, occasionally interrupted with the irregular tread of a boot print or piece of furniture. Bloody marks were already seeping into the fabric of the couch, while some errant drops fell lazily to the floor. As Ruby took all of this in, she was hit by a sudden wave of nausea as the smell of it suddenly hit her nostrils, all metallic and biting. Despite how horrible seeing all of the blood was, it paled in comparison to the dread that came with the fact this wasn’t just blood. It was _Blake’s_ blood.

  
For a long moment, Ruby just looked at the prone woman who had grown to mean so much to her. Blake was always…so strong, so quietly confident. Seeing her in a position of such pain and helplessness felt wrong on a fundamental, almost primal sense of the word. As her chest silently rose and fell, bandages poked out amid tears and holes in her clothing, bits of blood already drying against her skin. Her hair hung off the end of the couch, tangled in some places while dark red patches hung in clumps around her head. And of course, there were her ears, poking up amidst it all, what she had been hiding all this time.

  
By this point, late night had become early morning, but Ruby knew she wouldn’t find sleep, not while Blake was still hurt. Just sitting in a chair doing nothing had become unbearable so she decided to find something, anything to occupy her mind. Gathering a few supplies from underneath the kitchen sink, she started cleaning the apartment, wiping blood off the floor and furniture. With as delicate a hand as she could manage, Ruby untangled Blake’s curls, combing out the blood drying in clumps from it, and finally taking a damp cloth to the red splatters around her shoulders and arms. When exhaustion finally came for her, Ruby took the ice from Blake’s ankle before settling back in her chair, eyes closed, more questions and fears than ever before flying through her mind.  
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When Ruby finally woke up, she knew immediately that something was wrong. The couch opposite her was empty but for the bloody imprints left behind. As Ruby leapt up, frantic worry driving out her grogginess, she spotted a hunched frame leaning against the kitchen table, the sound of labored breathing emanating from it.

  
“Blake!” Rushing towards the shadowy figure, Ruby snaked her arm around the taller woman’s waist, doing her best to support her unsteady weight.

  
“I’m so sorry, Ruby…” she mumbled between breaths laden with exhaustion and pain. “…wanted some water, and you were asleep…”

  
“Don’t worry about that now. I said I was gonna take care of you, didn’t I?” Making the short trip from the table back to the couch, though barely a dozen steps, seemed to drain Blake of any strength she had worked up, as each agonizing move forward was marked with a half limping, half dragging motion that conveyed every ounce of pain the taller woman was feeling. Ever so slowly, she laid back down on the couch, resting her head once more on the armrest, breaths coming quick and shallow, a sign of the exertion she had just gone through.

  
Returning with a glass of water, Ruby handed it to her friend before sliding an arm behind her back and pushing her upper body forwards, so she could drink without spilling. In two massive gulps, Blake downed the water, gasping for air after each swallow.

  
As soon as she had finished, Ruby slowly lowered her back down onto the couch, her body almost limp in the smaller woman’s arms. With the last of her strength, Blake sighed out the words “…thank you…” before once more closing her eyes, drifting back into unconsciousness.

  
Once again, that heavy silence returned to the apartment like too many sheets in the summer, more stifling than comforting. With nothing else to do, Ruby inspected the taller woman’s injuries, looking carefully at each of Blake’s bandages to make sure none of the stitches underneath had been pulled loose. However, even though everything seemed fine on the surface, there was some wrongness that remained around Blake like a shroud.

  
It took Ruby a few minutes to finally put her finger one it, but as soon as she did, she stood up from her crouched position and headed back into her room, grabbing a pillow from her bed. Careful not to wake the sleeping woman, Ruby lifted her head up as gently as she could, before sliding the pillow underneath. With this last little addition, Ruby walked back to her chair, collapsing into it as if all her worries were physically dragging her down. It would be another half hour before she would find sleep again, but right before she did, she though she saw a smile touch Blake’s lips for the first time that night as she snuggled deeper into Ruby’s pillow.  
.............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

 

Early afternoon light filtered through the apartment, making the dust motes appear gold when they were caught in the silent illumination. They swirled and danced through the space, caught up in the cool autumn air coming from an open window. Blake had been sleeping for a very long time, but that was probably for the best considering how badly she had been hurt. The first thing she heard after waking up was Ruby humming tunelessly from the kitchen.

  
“Oh! You’re up,” Ruby said as she walked back into the living room. With a little help from the smaller woman’s proffered arm, Blake forced herself into a sitting position, eyes focused on the floor in front of her, still unable or unwilling to meet Ruby’s gaze.

  
“Ruby, we need to talk,” Blake began before her friend waved that thought away.

  
“We can talk later; the most important thing is to figure out what you need. Are you still in a lot of pain? Do you want some water or food or anything? Do you think you’re strong enough for me to help you to the bathroom?” As Ruby finished rattling off her list of concerns, she stopped and cringed for a moment. “Sorry, got a little ahead of myself. You can answer those one at a time if you want.”

  
With her left hand, Blake grasped Ruby’s shoulder, slowly pulling herself up until she was in a standing position, one foot held above the ground to avoid putting any weight on it. For a moment it looked like she would try and hobble away on her own, but quickly thought better of it, turning to the woman next to her. “Do you mind if I lean on you?”

  
“Of course not.” Supporting Blake’s weight as best she could, Ruby worked as a human crutch, slowly walking the taller woman back to the bathroom she shared with Yang. After waiting outside for a few minutes and finally hearing the sink turn off, she helped Blake back to the couch, ever so slowly easing her back down. “Now, what else can I get you? Water? Food? Tea?”

  
“Water would be appreciated, but you don’t have to…”

  
Despite the lackluster protest, Ruby returned a moment later with a full glass of water, which Blake gratefully accepted. As the smaller woman settled back into the chair opposite Blake, the dark-haired Faunus finished her drink, before finally leaning back and shifting her right arm to a more comfortable position in its sling.

  
“I don’t know how to thank you.”

  
“Oh, you don’t have to, its just what friends are for, right?” Ruby said, trying to brush away Blake’s comment. For her part, the taller woman angrily shook her head, not allowing herself such an easy way out.

  
“Friends don’t lie to each other. And that’s what I’ve done: lied to you. Again, and again, and yet you still helped me!” Blake shook her head in disgust before finally meeting Ruby’s eyes. “You saved my life when you didn’t have to, even after I treated you like something I could use. So…I am sorry. And thank you. I’m not sure what else I can say. I owe you so much, but the least I can give you is the truth, so please, ask whatever you want, about the White Fang, about my past, anything. No more secrets, no more hidden truths, no more lies.”

  
All at once, every question that had been swirling aimlessly around Ruby’s head for the last twelve hours jumped to the forefront of her mind. But all of the curiosity in the world couldn’t make Ruby go against her own nature. Blake was still hurting, and that meant that curiosity would just have to wait. “Are you still in pain? Is there anything I can do to make you better?”

  
For a moment, Blake simply stared at the woman across from her, before a low chuckle started deep within her, eventually growing to a full-fledged laugh as an incredulous smile crossed her lips. “I give you a blank check to ask anything about the former terrorist turned superhero sitting in front of you and your first question is if you can help me anymore than you already have. Ruby, you really are…impossible.”

  
Though it might not have seemed like a compliment, Ruby’s cheeks began to heat up nonetheless. She would have turned away in embarrassment if not for how much she wanted to keep looking at Blake’s smile.

  
“To answer your question, I’m fine. One of my powers that the media doesn’t know about is that I’m a quick healer. What would normally take months for someone to recover from will take me a few weeks at most.”

  
“What about for your collarbone? I could feel the break, but I don’t really know anything about setting a fracture like that. Now that you’re out of the suit could we take you to a hospital?”

  
Blake shook her head. “No. None of the hospitals in town would treat me.”

  
“Why not?” Ruby asked, blinking in confusion.

  
“All because of two little ears. Of course, on paper they don’t discriminate against Faunus, but if I were to go to one, there would be always be something wrong. Perhaps they wouldn’t be able to get in contact with my health insurance, or maybe there’s not enough empty beds in the trauma department. Doesn’t matter what the excuse is. They would never treat someone like me.”

  
Upon hearing this, it was Ruby’s turn to shake her head in disgust.

  
“That being said. I’ve heard of a private clinic near the docks that takes Faunus patients. I can go there, though…maybe not today.”

  
“What about the pain?” Ruby asked, hoping that Blake’s healing abilities somehow covered that detail as well.

  
“Its…manageable,” the taller woman replied. Despite its honesty, her statement didn’t do much to allay Ruby’s concerns

  
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  
“But it is the truth, and that’s what I promised.”

  
For a long moment, neither woman said a word. In that silence Ruby’s feelings grappled within her. There was so much about Blake that she didn’t know, didn’t understand. A hundred questions ran through her mind, but did she really want to hear the answers? What difference would they make? No matter what Blake had done in the past, no matter what she had been before, that wouldn’t change the person she was now, nor how Ruby felt about her. There wasn’t a question in the world that would change how Ruby viewed her, because people aren’t made out of motivations or backstories. People are made out of the little things, details that you have to work for to notice. Blake may have been in the White Fang, but that’s not what mattered to Ruby. To her, Blake was all the subtle things; the way she closed her eyes in appreciation after the first sip of a cup of tea, the way her eyes seemed to smile well before her lips had even begun to curl upwards, the way she would gasp in surprise when reading a twist in a good book. It was in the way she walked into a room, all quiet confidence and surety. It was in the little, unconscious movements she made, perhaps twirling a strand of hair, or smoothing the edges of her shirt. And it was in the way her calm, detached demeanor would drop at a moment’s notice, replaced with the kind of gentle care and concern that never failed to take Ruby’s breath away. That was who Blake was, not a reformed White Fang member turned vigilante, but a person, and one that Ruby had come to care for deeply.

  
“You’re still not asking anything. I promised I would - “

  
“You don’t have to,” Ruby interrupted. “If it hurts you to talk about it, then I don’t need to hear it. If you want to tell me about it, then I will listen. I’ll listen to anything you have to say, but only if you want me to.”

  
“I do. I have run away from so many things in my life, but I won’t run away from this. I won’t run away from _you_.” Blake’s voice was stronger now, more forceful, full of resolute passion. “It might be easier just to tell it all at once, makes things a lot simpler.” She sighed, once more adjusting her position on the couch before firmly meeting Ruby’s eyes and beginning her story. “I suppose I should start with the White Fang.

  
“The simple answer for why I joined the Fang, was because my parents were part of it. Things were…different back then; it was all protests and boycotts, nothing like the violence they’re committing now. Some of my earliest memories were of rallies. You can probably imagine how silly I looked, a little Faunus girl holding a cardboard sign between all the adults. I even learned how to read by going over the notes my dad would have for his speeches. But…times changed. Or more accurately, they didn’t.

  
“Peaceful protests are great when they work. And they were working, but we couldn’t see it. Changing people’s hearts and minds is hard, but fighting hatred and intolerance? That’s much harder. Something had to give, so eventually, something did. A much more militant faction took over, led by a woman named Sienna Khan, who is still the overall leader of the White Fang. She had a different opinion on what we should be doing, a more violent approach than had been done before. She gathered all the members with powers and split them into teams, sending us on missions that would ‘help Faunus everywhere’, though that was just propaganda. We hurt people, destroyed property, stole goods, and sabotaged as much human infrastructure as we could get our hands on. And you know what the worst part was? I believed in it. I really thought we were doing the right thing.

  
“The leader of my group was a man named Adam, though the media mostly calls him Bull now. He was one of Sienna’s greatest supporters, even saying we should be doing more raids than we already were. And me? I admired him for his passion. I _admired_ him. Honestly, that feels worse than almost everything else.”

  
“Then why did you leave?” Ruby asked quietly.

  
Blake looked down, thinking for a moment before responding. “About three years ago there was a villain named Cloudburst that was active in Mistral. She was an outspoken racist, often specifically targeting either individual Faunus, or Faunus communities and ghettos. Eventually her identity had been leaked to the authorities and it seemed like her days outside of prison were numbered. And so, she took over a ship and headed South towards Menagerie, crashing it directly into the main docks on the island. Hundreds of people died, but somehow, she made it out. A team of local heroes took her down, but not before she murdered hundreds more.”

  
“Were you one of the heroes who stopped her?”

  
“No, no I wasn’t” Blake said, gritting her teeth. “And you want to know the reason why I didn’t stop her? Its because I wasn’t there. I was thousands of miles away, in the middle of hijacking a train. A _train_.” For a moment, Blake paused, too choked with guilt to continue.

  
“And do you know what Adam said to me after we finished hijacking the train? He said, ‘We did good today.’ Six hundred people died on those docks, either in the crash or in the fight that came after, but he tried to tell me that what we were doing was the best possible way to help the Faunus. We were hurting people, Ruby, humans and Faunus! On that day, I was just the same as Cloudburst, a villain hurting people, instead of helping those who needed it most. I left the White Fang the next morning, couldn’t keep lying to myself about what we were doing.

  
“That’s why I said I didn’t deserve your help last night. Even if it was for the right reasons, I have done more terrible things than I can ever make up for. And all of it, I tried to hide from you.” Blake hung her head, again refusing to even look at Ruby, still sitting quietly across from her. “I don’t know what you must think of me now, but if you regret saving my life, I wouldn’t blame you.”

  
For a long time, Blake stared at the floor in shame, too terrified of what she might see reflected in the smaller woman’s eyes. In a way, she almost hoped that Ruby would hate her, things might even be simpler if that were the case. But after almost a minute of staring downwards, there was no reaction from across the room, no shouted words, no rebuke, nothing. Eventually she couldn’t take it any more and looked up, but to her surprise, Ruby wasn’t in her chair any longer. Blake heard a sniffling sound, and out of the corner of her left eye, saw the smaller woman sit down on the couch next to her.

  
Ruby circled her arms around the wounded woman next to her, holding her as closely as she could without damaging any of her injuries. As softly as possible, she laid her head against Blake’s left shoulder, letting her tears fall unhindered onto bare skin.

  
“Ruby what are you – “

  
“This is what I think about you,” Ruby whispered in between sniffles. “You said you didn’t know what I would think about you after telling me all that so…this is it.”

 

 

“Oh.”

 

 

As Ruby’s tears continued to fall, the two sat in silence, for what else was there to say? Blake had poured out her heart, and Ruby, though in less words, had done the same. Eventually, the tears stopped, but neither woman was willing to break the silence they had made. Although it was probably only a few minutes, their time together seemed to last much, much longer.

  
It was Ruby who finally broke the silence, whispering quietly into Blake’s shoulder. “What are you going to do now?”

  
“Wait and heal. Once I’m better I can get back to what I’d been doing before, fighting villains, helping people.” She paused before shaking her head slightly. “I’m going to have to fix my suit first. Although, considering how banged up it must be, it might be better just to start from scratch. That’ll be…quite the task.”

  
For the first time in a while, Blake looked over to Ruby, mere inches from her face. “What about you? What will you do about all this?”

  
Looking directly into amber eyes, Ruby smiled, though tears still stained her cheeks. “I’m going to make you that new suit.”


	4. Part Four

### Part Four: November 15th – Dawn 

Despite having been woken up so early on a Saturday morning, Coco had to admit to herself that she looked good.  Her jacket?  Leather.  Her sunglasses?  Designer.  Her gloves?  Imported.  And that was to say nothing of her fitted black jeans or hand-made boots.  Of course, this was just lazy Saturday wear, practically pajamas compared to her inspired ensembles that made heads turn and jaws drop.  When she swaggered her way across Beacon’s campus, people practically jumped to get out of her way.  Its not easy being the queen, but hot damn did she look good in a crown.

At her side was Ruby, feeling slightly underdressed in her usual red hoodie and ripped skinny jeans.  Waking Coco up this early on a weekend always made her feel a bit guilty, but until the university gifted her one of the coveted keys to the Engineering Workshop, this was just about the only way she could get access to the kinds of tools and materials that Blake’s new suit required.  Unfortunately getting one of these keys was a rare event, so Ruby had resigned herself to another round of apologies to Coco.  Perhaps this time she would make her a batch of cookies as a thank you.

While walking up the steps to the main entrance of the engineering building, Ruby tried once more to apologize to her companion, but Coco just nonchalantly waved it away.

“Really Ruby, its no big deal.  To be brutally honest it sucks that they have you taking all these design classes and not give you access to the Workshop.  I mean how else are you supposed to learn?”

The shorter woman sighed.  “Tell me about it.  It’d be hard enough keeping up with the rest of the class even if I could get in on weekends.  You all just have so much more experience than me, it can be kind of intimidating sometimes.  I’m sure I’m holding everyone back somehow.”

“Nonsense!  You’re a ray of sunshine and we’re all happy you’re here,” Coco said, which elicited a chuckle from her classmate.  “I mean, having less experience just means you have more room to grow.  Heck, you’re probably going to leave us all in the dust by next semester.”

Ruby snorted in response.

“Hey, anything’s possible!  I mean, if you keep putting in the work like you’re doing then I’m sure one day you’ll be somebody’s kickass rival, preferably mine.  And that’s why I don’t mind getting up so early to let you into the Workshop.  Besides,” she added with a shrug, “I had a big meal last night and I need a reason to get out and work all that off.”

“Really?  What’d you eat?”

“My girlfriend.”

As Coco’s grin grew to near mythic proportions, Ruby faked a retching noise before saying “Gross,” which somehow made Coco’s smile even wider.  “At least tell me you showered between then and now.”

“Oh, there was a shower all right.  I just wasn’t alone if you catch my drift.”

“Not better!”

Once inside the building, the two quickly made their way to the back corner which held the dubious honor of being home to “The Workshop”, a series of labs, testing facilities, ateliers, and manufacturing studios which had become a second home to Ruby and all her classmates in Beacon’s technician program.  Every room was filled floor to ceiling with the kind of equipment and tools necessary to learn how to become a technician and hone that craft to a razor sharpness.  As the door was unlocked and the two women walked inside, Ruby was filled with the same feeling she always had when visiting the Workshop: a special mixture of awe and curiosity that never failed to get her in the mood to make something.  There was just so much equipment in there, and every tool and machine held near infinite possibilities in the kind of things it could create.  To put it plainly, the Workshop might as well have been Ruby’s own little slice of heaven.

Once inside, she set down her backpack and shimmied out of her hoodie, replacing it with a pair of worn gloves and a leather apron.  As Coco walked around the room, setting up some of the heavy equipment between yawns, the Workshop began to wake up, the air thrumming with the purrs and whines of the various machines that dotted every available inch of floorspace.  There was always a certain aliveness to the Workshop, an unmistakable energy in the air, as if it were possessed by the same creative spirit that pushed the students that worked in it.  Sanding belts hummed, table saws whirred, the CNC machine buzzed, and even the new 3D printer beeped its electronic clarion call.  All together they seemed a single voice, a _Vox Aedificator_ , that wordlessly reveled in the works that were made within its walls.

As Ruby allowed the feeling of the workshop to once more wash over her, her mind began to steer itself toward Blake, as it so often did these days.  Ever since that horrible night that Blake had dragged her injured body home, Ruby had taken every care to make sure she recovered, though that had been a long and arduous process.  A process helped immensely by a certain Dr. Vasilias, who had opened his doors to all patients in need, despite having an odd revulsion to his clinic’s proximity to the docks.  There had also been the problem of the couch, which had been irreversibly ruined, something which Blake had insisted upon apologizing for.  In the end, they both decided it needed to go, dropping it off at the nearest dump while trying to figure out a suitable excuse for Weiss and Yang.  As luck would have it though, they needn’t have bothered.  When their two roommates returned from the company retreat to find their couch missing and Ruby nervously waiting at the front door with Blake beside her, Weiss had cut them off before they could begin, saying that whatever had happened, she absolutely did not want to know.  Yang had made an offhand joke about plausible deniability, and the four spent a quiet weekend shopping at a number of different furniture stores, though a certain measure of guilt remained.  And as for Blake’s wounds, the young vigilante had now almost completely healed, and though she hid it well, she was anxious to get back into the field.  Her suit hadn’t quite been completed however, so Ruby knew she needed to get her nose back to the grindstone.

“So, what exactly are you gonna work on today?” Coco asked from across the room.

“Mainly additions to an old project, need to work on a few refinements to the design.”

“Sounds good, I won’t pry too much.”

“I appreciate that.”  Ruby hated to lie to anyone, though she knew that spilling any information about what specifically she was making, and more importantly, who she was making it for, could be a big problem.  Coco would probably never know just how much Ruby appreciated her unwillingness to pry.

“Alright you seem pretty squared away,” Coco said, heading towards the door.  “Is there anything else you need, or should I leave you to it?”

Ruby bit her lip.  “Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about.  Its kind of a personal question though.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you and Velvet start…you know…dating?”

“I asked her out,” Coco replied with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, causing Ruby to blink in surprise.

“Really?  That’s it?  Sorry, but that just sounds so- “

“Normal?” Coco asked with a chuckle.  “Yeah, we get that a lot.  I mean, at the end of the day, we were both great friends and liked being around each other, so I just asked if she wanted to get coffee in a date kind of way and she said yes.  A couple months later and we’re both wearing ironic ‘gal pal’ socks and living in the same apartment.  Couldn’t have asked for better.”

“Huh.”

Upon seeing Ruby’s serious expression, Coco’s smile turned devilish.  “Soooooooo…is this just friendly curiosity or are you looking for advice?  Cuz’ it sounds like you’re asking for advice of the romantic variety.”

In response, Ruby mumbled out something unintelligible and began turning a particularly bright shade of crimson, which was all the answer that Coco needed.

“Oh, you are aren’t you!  So?  Who is it?  Come on, spill the beans, girl.  Is it anyone I know?”

Ruby scrunched her eyes shut, acutely regretting her earlier question.  She sighed in defeat to herself, no use denying it now.  “Nope, no one you know.  She just moved to Vale and doesn’t go to school here.”

“She?  That’s cool, I thought we might be playing for the same team,” Coco said, wiggling her eyebrows at her classmate.  “Well, tell me about her!  I’m definitely curious about the girl who can make you turn that color of red.”

For a moment, Ruby didn’t really know where to start.  “Well, she’s…really passionate and – loves books and tea and…she does this thing with her hair that’s like…and I mean obviously she’s unbelievably beautiful…she’s just so…you know what I mean?” she asked, gesturing vaguely in Coco’s direction.

“Uhhhhh.”

“Ok, I’m kinda rambling, aren’t I?  Um…actually, do you mind if I get a little…metaphysical?  I think it might get my point across better.”

“Oh, please do.  I love it when you get weird.”

It’s always difficult to describe why you consider someone to be special; you can list out everything about them, talk about how you met, and what they’re doing now, but that’s never enough, never really does them justice.  There will always be something that makes them greater than the sum of their qualities, some bit of lightning that just can’t be bottled.  So, after another moment of collecting her thoughts, Ruby tried a different approach.

“You know that…feeling you get when you pick up your favorite book, the one with all the dogears and the lines you maybe thought about getting a tattoo of, and you open it up and that _smell_ just hits you.  All of a sudden, everything just kind of…makes sense in the world.  It just feels right.  Like you can walk into every good memory and experience you’ve had with that story and give it a big ol’ hug.”

“Yeah, I can picture it.”

“Whenever she walks into the room I get that feeling.  I don’t even really know how to describe it, it just feels so…warm and full, I guess.  And then she’ll touch my shoulder, or our hands will graze each other and suddenly its all explosions and every part of me is on fire.”  Ruby paused for a moment, shaking her head a little.  “I know what a crush feels like, I’m not fourteen anymore; I can deal with butterflies and sappy daydreams, but this is just…so much more.  Even being in the same room as her is electric, like I have to physically stop myself from going up and just holding her you know?

“And I want to ask her out, but…how?  What if all this stuff isn’t anything close to what she feels about me?  What if all I am to her is quirky little Ruby with the smart brain and too much energy?  And I don’t even know if she’s into girls, so maybe she _can’t_ feel the same things I do.  How am I supposed to deal with that?  How can I…”  Ruby bit the inside of her lip, stopping herself before going any further and sighing heavily while rubbing at her face in frustration.

“Damn, Ruby, I thought you might be in deep, but…wow.”  Seeing how overwhelmed her classmate looked, Coco leaned in and give Ruby a long hug, patting her back in support.  “If she really means that much to you…well I don’t want to say that you owe it to her to let her know, cuz’ that’s a shitty line of thought honestly, but doing nothing about it isn’t going to solve anything.  Caring that much about someone is– _should_ always be a good thing, though if you keep it balled up inside its just going to twist and turn until you can’t stand it anymore.”

“Then what do you think I should do?” Ruby asked, the beginnings of tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Just…think about your options and make a decision.  Doing nothing won’t get you anywhere, and even if she does turn out to be straight as an arrow and it all goes tits up, well I’ve been told I have a very comfy shoulder if you want to cry on it.”

“Ok, I’m _definitely_ baking you some cookies for all this,” Ruby said as she embraced her friend once more.

“They’d better be extremely unhealthy and with chocolate chips in ‘em.  None of that oatmeal and raisin shit,” Coco replied, mentally passing as much reassurance as she could to her classmate.  “But in all seriousness, I’m here for whatever you need, whether it be celebrations or condolences. 

“That being said, I should really be going though.  You probably need to get some actual work done, not just chat with me.  And so, as I fade into the sunset, I shall leave you with words passed down to us generation to generation by the venerable sages of old…” she said, pausing for effect while waving her arms around dramatically.  “Get It Girl.”

“Booo!  Get outta here!”

“You wound me sirrah!  Very uncharitable of you!” Coco called out as she doffed an imaginary hat and exited stage left through the main door to the Workshop.

With her classmate’s words filling her head, Ruby took a moment to dry the corners of her eyes with the back of her gloved hand before centering herself back on the task at hand.  No matter how much confusion and uncertainty were in her life, she knew she could find clarity in her work, the problem at hand always brought the kind of surety that she was desperately in need of.

Making her way to the main equipment and gadgetry room, she popped open her locker, and began removing all the parts to Blake’s new suit she had hidden away between work sessions.  Luckily for her, assembly of the largest pieces had been completed the week prior, all that remained was to attach and test the last remaining gauntlet sections as well as connecting the mask and cowl struts to the rest of the suit.  Taking Blake’s measurements had been a harrowing experience as it had quickly turned into a game of willpower as Ruby tried her best not to blush while sliding a tape measure around the taller woman’s arms, torso, and legs.  What came next was easier: a full week of blueprints, 3d modelled designs, dozens of scrapped ideas, and plans for suit-based weaponry, all being thought up at the speed of Ruby’s mind.  She had even managed a few personal touches that she hoped Blake might appreciate.  Once production was underway and her work rhythm established, day turned to night and back to day in the blink of an eye, all-nighters losing their negative connotation when done for passion rather than a grade.

And now all the hard work was finally paying off.  The suit was almost complete; only a few minor tweaks remained until it was presented to its rightful owner.  Ruby couldn’t wait.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

 

“So?  How does it fit?”

“It’s perfect.”

As Blake walked out of her bathroom, Ruby’s eyes were all over her, trying to find any flaws in the suit she now wore.  Perfection is always an unattainable goal, but when it comes to technicians, getting as close as possible could be the difference between life and death for the heroes they support.  As Ruby walked in a circle around Blake, doing her level best to ignore how absolutely, jaw-droppingly gorgeous the taller woman was, she took stock of all the major offensive and defensive elements the suit had been built with from the bottom up.

Taking cues from Blake’s homemade suit, the bottom half was all a single piece, looping around her shoulders to stay in place.  The boots were designed to slide over the hem of these, and actually hooked into metal slots in the pants to keep everything together and moving smoothly, avoiding the need for excessive laces or buckles.  To accentuate Blake’s powers of stealth, the soles were extremely thin, giving enough cushioning to walk over rough surfaces but with enough flexibility and give to make it feel like being barefoot.  Steel, backed by layers of leather were attached to the toes, both a source of protection for Blake, and a source of pain for anyone on the business end of one of her kicks.  The tops of her feet were similarly protected, with a much thinner section lying around the ankle, allowing a full range of motion.

At first glance, the pants appeared skintight, but in reality, they were merely layered.  Knees, ankles, and hips were covered with a stretchy material beneath pliable Kevlar to protect from sharp weapons.  Along the suits’ shins, calves, and thighs, hardier materials were used.  The base layers were high grade cotton duck fabric with molded strips of graphene attached along the long bones, and a thinner lining of Kevlar in between.  Above the waist, the pants attached to an undershirt of sorts which stopped just below the chest and attached to the shoulders via two straps.  Around the stomach and lower back were a number of graphene pieces which almost seemed to simulate ribs, offering protection from blades and gunfire while allowing the wearer to bend at the waist in any direction.  In addition to the purely protective gear the lower back was designed to hold a single pouch, attached directly into the suit which could be opened with a simple zipper.  This could hold any number of gadgets and equipment needed for taking down specific villains.  At the moment however, it was filled with a few clips of non-lethal ammunition, a fire-retardant blanket made out of a high temperature mineral wool, an EpiPen, and a syringe full of Naloxone for any civilian that needed saving that Blake found while patrolling at night.

Attaching neatly to special slots in the material of the pants, the jacket piece fit so snugly in place, that once it was on, it became almost impossible to realize the suit wasn’t a single, uninterrupted piece of clothing.  The upper arms and shoulders were built similarly to the legs, with graphene along exposed areas and thin Kevlar covering the joints.  Ceramic plates covered the chest and beneath the arms, the bulky weight cleverly designed to be counterbalanced by similar protective pieces around the shoulder blades and upper back.  As for the gloves, Ruby had taken cues from various bruisers’ suits with layered protection on the inside and multiple hardened, miniature plates on the outside.  In particular, the knuckles had quite a bit of cushioning covered by a series of reticulated steel coverings which extended all the way to the tips of the gloves’ fingers.  These would allow a complete range of motion from an open palm to a closed fist.  As the jacket piece sloped upwards from the collarbone to the base of the neck, it was met by a bunched fabric covering, which at first blush mimicked a scarf but was actually more similar to the collar of a turtleneck in design.  Constructed from a synthetic fabric, it was designed to remain pliant, yet solid enough to turn away a direct attack from a sharp object.  Additionally, it could be pulled up and over the nose to cover the bottom half of the face, for whenever someone with a camera got too close, or if Blake needed some extra protection from a particularly cold night.  Rising up underneath this fabric, were two carbon-fiber struts that started just behind her human ears and curved together just below where her forehead met her hairline.  These functioned both as a headband to keep unwanted locks of hair from getting in the way as well as what the mask would eventually be anchored to when it was locked into place rather than sitting innocently on a nearby dresser.  The crown of Blake’s head would remain uncovered, even with the mask in place, but Ruby definitely had some ideas in the works about how to potentially change that in the future.  That being said, any kind of headgear would need to be modified in order to accommodate the catlike ears above her brow.

As a way of keeping continuity from the handmade suit, as well as to pay tribute to her vigilante name, just about every piece had been colored a deep shade of black, a choice both stylistic and functional, as it helped its wearer blend into the natural shadows of the city at night.  Accentuating that color choice were lines of deep purple trim, covering seams as well as the soles of the boots, giving an almost paw-like effect.  While most heroes chose to incorporate some kind of symbol into their suit, Ruby figured that Blake wasn’t exactly the type to emblazon a giant ‘S’ for Sable across her chest, so she had kept the symbology somewhat light.  Along her right shoulder was a design that Ruby herself had concocted, a gray flower, whose petals seemed to leap upwards like dark flames away from the center.      

All in all, despite the few cosmetic choices, the suit was designed primarily for protection from a wide variety of different weapons while allowing almost as much flexibility as normal clothing.  The one downside was that it was heavy, a concern which was allayed by the unnatural strength that many powered people, including Blake, had access to.

However, as much as suits were meant for protection, offensive capabilities were a must for heroes, so Ruby had built in projectile weapons into the gauntlet pieces fitting around the wrist and forearm.

“So, I understand the left is a gun, but how do you fire it,” Blake asked, eying the seemingly normal lining around her arm.

“Ok, see right here, there’s a button,” Ruby said, guiding the Faunus’ right hand to a small indentation in the suit’s wrist a couple inches below the palm.  “And when you press it…”  With a slick whir the top of the gauntlet popped into place, revealing the barrel and loading chamber of the L3-X400, the best suit-based firearm available on the market.

“Oh, wow.”

“Pretty much.  Its not loaded right now, but there’s a couple clips of rubber bullets in that pouch along your back.  Now to fire this bad boy…”  Ruby reached forward and gently took hold of Blake’s thumb and pinky finger, her breath hitching in her throat as she became acutely aware of what she was doing.  “…you just press the pads of these two fingers together, closing the circuit that’s built into the gauntlet.  It works like an electronic trigger, kind of like plastic explosives.”

Blake nodded slowly in understanding while Ruby quickly took a step back, mentally willing away both the sensation of just how good it felt to hold the taller woman’s hand as well as her rising blush.

“And the right hand?”

“Oh yeah, the right one…uhh, it works pretty similarly to the gun, button underneath your forearm, trigger in the thumb and little finger, except this one doesn’t shoot bullets.”  Blake pushed down on the indentation along her wrist and another launcher popped into place, this one with an odd, horizontal shape instead of a barrel.

“So, I had this crazy idea a couple weeks ago about making, like, a grappling hook or something that was built into your arm to help with longer range fights and mobility.  As it turns out that’s already a thing, but all the designs I could find online were super bulky, so I tested some stuff out and kind of stumbled over something a little more…elegant.”  Ruby suddenly scrunched up her eyes in embarrassment as she stopped her train of thought.  “Sorry, that sounded way less pretentious in my head.”

“It’s not pretentious if it’s the truth.  Explain it,” Blake said gesturing to her right hand.

Ruby blinked for a moment, looking up at her roommate.  “Ok, full disclosure, that is one hundred percent the coolest thing I’ve ever heard, so thumbs up on that,” she said, eliciting a smile from Blake.  “Like I said a second ago, functionally it works the same as your other gauntlet.  Hit the button to prime it and the touch your fingers together to shoot.  The difference is that this one fires this…ribbon…thingy. I don’t really have a technical name for it yet.  So basically, I got this premade grappling hook attachment and made some…after-market adjustments to it to better suit the…suit.”  She paused, scrunching up her eyes, and shaking her head in regret.  “Wow, I really need a thesaurus.”

“I’ll get you one for Christmas,” Blake replied, the smile from earlier still on her face.

“Haha…uhh thanks!  I would ask what you want, but I’m kind of already giving you a suit so that’ll have to do.  Sorry it’s not wrapped.”

“You don’t need to apologize for a present, Ruby,” she said, before getting a mischievous look in her eye.  “And besides, I don’t think you really need to worry about wrapping paper considering you’ve sort of wrapped me.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense, especially ‘cuz you’re such a gift,” Ruby replied, while being seized with immediate regret.  At least Yang hadn’t heard her flirting this poorly, as the teasing from that would likely last until the end of time.

For her part, Blake merely chuckled, and motioned for Ruby to continue her explanation, her face now as red as the tips of her hair.

“R-Right…umm…so the ribbon…thingy.  Yeah, the ribbon, its designed to uhhh…wrap around stuff and secure back onto itself.  It uses these…electric signals sent from the gauntlet to remain…straight while its firing but curl up when you’re fingers stop touching.”  As Ruby began to recover from her momentary embarrassment, her knowledge of and desire to share the inner workings of the design, began raising her confidence once again as the color in her face returned to its normal hue.  “And then, once you’re sure the ribbon is secure, you can touch your fingers back together and it’ll start to retract back into the gauntlet.  Normally this kind of thing would be used to aid movement, especially vertically.  Like…you know…hook onto a lamppost and swing yourself up or something like that.  I don’t think you really need to worry about that so much with your dash ability, but you can use it for other stuff too.  I mean, with the right angle you can tie someone up pretty snugly to keep them in place.”

“Kinky.”

Upon her interruption, Ruby’s eyes shot up to Blake’s face, only to find the biggest smirk in the world plastered across it.  “I meant to tie up bad guys that you’re fighting,” Ruby replied, indignantly swatting Blake on the arm.  “And I’m making this whole thing for free!  Don’t kinkshame the hand that feeds!”

Two gloved hands were thrown up in mock surrender as Blake laughed easily at the retort.  Over the past month, the banter between the two women had grown considerably more relaxed, both because of how much time they were spending together, but also due to the certain conspiratorial friendship that always develops between people who share a secret.  Ruby was now one of only a handful of people that knew Sable’s true identity, and what began as a tearful confession had grown into something far more organic and sincere.  Closeness begets closeness after all.

Moving on from the suit’s offensive capabilities, Ruby then took a few more minutes to describe some of the more passive functionalities built in, including a few nigh-invisible vents that allowed the heavy suit to be surprisingly breathable as well as the contents of the zippered pouch located near the lower back.  For her part, Blake nodded along to Ruby’s explanations, taking in as much information about her new suit from its creator that she could.  After asking a few pointed questions about potential weaknesses and situations to avoid in the heat of combat, the taller woman seemed satisfied with her knowledge of the new gear, substituting her line of inquiry for the general.

“Is there anything else I need to know?  Any other tricks hidden up these sleeves?” she asked, gesturing towards her forearms.

“Nope, I think we’ve hit everything pretty well,” Ruby replied, shaking her head before stopping, the look on her face changing to contemplative.  “Well, I guess there is one other thing, but its kind of extremely nerdy, so I don’t know how into it you’ll be.”

“Please, go ahead.”

“Okay, so there this kind of…tradition?  I guess you could call it that.  Or maybe an inside joke, but like, a serious one?  I don’t know.  Anyways, there’s kind of a long history of technicians naming the suits they make for people, kind of similar to how a musician would name an album, or something like that.  Nobody talks about it that much, and its sort of going out of fashion, but I think its cool, so I’m keeping the tradition alive, I guess.”

Blake’s eyes rose in amusement.  “So?  Let’s hear it.”

“I’m calling it…Gambol Shroud.”  With a certain air of gravitas, Ruby flourished the suit’s name, almost as if it were a fancy prize that someone had just won.  But almost as soon as it arrived, the wind left the young technician’s sales as she screwed her eyes up in embarrassment.  “Alright, full disclosure, but I’ve never actually said it out loud before and holy cow that is _soooooo_ nerdy.  But I mean, it makes sense though doesn’t it?  You’re a trickster with skills in both quick movement and stealth, and the suit is meant to help you do just that.  Speed, sneaking, and protection all in one.  It makes sense!  At least, I hope it makes sense…”

Blake smiled at Ruby’s awkwardness.  “Gambol Shroud.”  For a moment, she bounced experimentally on the tips of her toes before settling back down into the suit.  “I like it.”

Breaking out into a smile of her own, Ruby couldn’t help but feel a little proud at all the hard work that had gone into her creation, even if it was meant to be used by someone else.  Being a technician is as much an art as it is a science, or at least, that’s what it felt like in that moment, now that every piece had come together to form the completed opus.  Or at least, almost every piece.

To be fully accurate, there was only one part of the entire apparatus that was left, and though more important symbolically than functionally, the final piece of the puzzle is always the most important.  When people with superpowers began showing up all over Remnant, they didn’t retain all of the trademarks of the comic books of yesteryear, but one of the few they did was the mask.  Symbolically, it’s the perfect accessory.  It conveys all the meaning and heroism of an extraordinary individual who fights for the downtrodden, sowing good deeds wherever they may, yet who chooses to hide their face in order to live quietly side-by-side with the people they save.

Blake picked up her new mask from where it lay on the dresser, turning it over in her hands to inspect the detailed work that went into making it.  She sighed, knitting her brow together as she looked on in silence.  “A long time ago, there was this poet, who said that we are our truest selves when wearing a mask; that paradoxically hiding our identity shows who we are more than anything else.  And while I think he was a great writer, and I wear a mask all the time, I have no idea if he was right or not.”  She sighed again before finally looking up at Ruby.  For a moment, she seemed as though she wanted to keep speaking, but just as she drew in a breath to begin, she stopped, instead opting for a rueful smile before handing the mask back to the woman that made it.  “Even when I was at my worst, you did everything you could to help me, Ruby.  You’ve seen me as a vigilante, as someone desperately trying to hide who they are, and as someone doing their best to be honest.  If there’s anyone who knows who I really am, it’s you. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully thank you for everything you’ve done for me, both as a technician and as my friend.”  She looked down to the floor, an uncharacteristic shyness invading her amber eyes.  “I…I didn’t mean to get that heavy, but there are some things that need to be said.  And I know this is just one more thing I’m asking of you, but if I’m going to keep on being a hero, I can’t imagine doing it without your help.  So…I want you to put the mask on me.  Maybe it sounds silly, but somehow…that feels like the only right way to do this, to keep moving forward.  It just…makes sense.”

For a long moment, Ruby just looked at Blake’s face, more emotions welling up inside her than she cared to count.  As she stepped forward, mask held in trembling hands, that indescribable, wonderful, senseless, perfect warmth filled every inch of her body.  Without saying a word, she reached her hand forward, feeling along the cold carbon-fiber strut that outlined the taller woman’s brow, not trusting herself to touch the soft skin of Blake’s face.  Feline ears twitched in response, and as Ruby looked downwards to Blake’s lips, the profound need to kiss her was nearly overwhelming.  That warmth was everywhere now, coming from deep within her, from the heat coming from Blake’s body and from the warm breath upon her face.

In that moment, Ruby realized two very important things.  Firstly, that this was the moment that everyone talked about.  The moment when everything in this imperfect world was as good as it would ever be; when things felt right because they _were_ right, and that kissing Blake in that moment would be better than anything else imaginable.

The second thing she realized, was that if only she was a braver woman, she would have.

In the end, it was fear that won out.  Fear that taking things too far would ruin that perfect moment, that a single act could sour the most beautiful thing in her life: her friendship with Blake.  If the woman she desired so much didn’t reciprocate the same need that Ruby felt, if their relationship was ruined because of one hasty decision made in a moment of sentimentality, then how was Ruby supposed to go on?  How could her story continue if her happily ever after didn’t want her back?

And just like that, in the space between breaths, the moment was gone.  Ruby clicked the mask into place, stepping back only to find that Blake had disappeared from the room.  In the space she once occupied stood Sable, the unknowable vigilante from half a world away.  Not alien.  Not a stranger.  But still not the woman that she loved.  That role had been given to Blake and no other.


	5. Part Five

### Part Five: November 16th – Noon

To Ruby the moment seemed to hang in the air like a ghost, the kiss that wasn’t haunting her as thoroughly as any spirit roaming some lost, uncertain place. And then, in the space of a heartbeat it was gone, shattered by a sudden alarm coming from their phones; Ruby’s stuffed deep in the pocket of her black jeans, and Blake’s resting next to her keys on the bedside table. Both women knew that alert by heart, an automated message sent out to everyone registered as living within the city of Vale whenever a supervillain had attacked. And there it was, scrolling across the screen in capital letters “VILLAIN MONTAG – 121 EAST 3RD STREET (HENDERSON TOWER) - CIVILIANS ARE ADVISED TO STAY INDOORS – EVACUATION OF SOUTHEAST RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT IN PROGRESS”

  
Ruby looked up to meet Sable’s gaze, painfully aware of what the vigilante was going to say next.

  
“From where we are, we’re probably closer than any other hero in the city, and if I’m remembering correctly, the buildings in that area are old; they could go up like candles if the fire isn’t contained. If there’s even a chance that I can stop him before this becomes a disaster, then I…” Sable’s jaw settled into a hard line as she looked down at the smaller woman. “I have to do this, Ruby.”

  
“I know.”

  
Sable nodded and turned towards the window, only breaking eye contact at the last moment possible. Once again, panic seized Ruby’s heart, her breaths coming in quick, shallow starts as she rushed across the room, grasping desperately at the vigilante’s forearm. On some level she knew that what she wanted was selfish. Blake was uniquely capable of stopping Montag, and stopping her from carrying out what she believed to be her duty was tantamount to condemning his victims to the fire. And yet. On a level deeper than any she had felt before she wanted it, wanted it more than anything else, to tell Blake not to go, to rip the mask from her face and keep her here, safely away from the monster. However, deep down, she knew that going out and fighting for the sake of others was simply who Blake was. This was the woman she loved, and no matter how much she wanted it to be different, this was always going to be the way it would happen.

  
Ruby’s lips trembled. “I’m not telling you to stay. And I won’t ask you to make me a promise. But I…I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that after everything, you are coming home. That no matter what happens, you’ll come back to me. Because I…need you, and if you’re hurt again or if you…” She paused, swallowing hard, making no effort to stop the tears in her eyes. “I couldn’t go on if that happened. So please, I don’t care if you’re lying, just tell me that I’ll get to see you again.”

  
Turning away from the window, Blake squared her shoulders to the young technician, “Ruby, I will never lie to you. Not now, and not ever. That’s my promise to you. And I am coming home, and you will see me again. If you believe in anything, then believe that I will do everything in my power to come back to you, because this is where I belong. Here. With you.”

  
As the tears streamed openly down her face, Ruby stared into those amber eyes, finally relaxing her grip on the vigilante’s arm. “I believe you.”

  
With time in short supply, Sable turned to the window, peaking her head outside for just a moment to see if anyone in the adjoining buildings was watching before vaulting the sill and onto the fire escape just outside. She turned to look at Ruby one last time, smiling almost peacefully, before activating her dash power, landing evenly on the next building’s roof before sprinting towards the smoke that now dominated the horizon.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

To Ruby, the hour and a half following Sable’s quick exit through her bedroom window seemed to pass as slowly as whole weeks of time, each moment a whirlwind of panic over the battle that was taking place a few blocks away. Even after the vigilante’s first fight with Montag when she had come home a bloody mess, Ruby had felt less desperate. At least then, she had known how bad the situation was and what she could do to make it better, but this? This horrible knowledge that Blake, _her Blake_ , was in immediate danger and she couldn’t do anything about it was nearly overwhelming. The only thing assuaging the fear was hope that the suit she had made could somehow provide the difference Sable needed. And sure, she had put every ounce of her knowledge and ability into making Gambol Shroud, but was it enough?

  
As her footfalls beat a heavy percussion on the floor from restless pacing, she kept stealing furtive glances at the tv, afraid to turn it on and see news coverage of the attack. Because as unbearable as not knowing was, at least she still had hope that Blake would make it home. If she turned on the tv and saw that her worst fears had come true, then the world might as well stop spinning, for she would be lost to it.

  
But with every stroke of the clock, not knowing became a worse and worse alternative. Over ninety minutes had passed since Montag’s attack begun, but how long was a fight with someone capable of making fire from thin air supposed to take? And how long would it take for someone with a short-range teleport at their disposal to get to Third Street and back? There were too many unanswered questions bouncing around Ruby’s head, and even her unique focus couldn’t wrestle them into a cohesive train of thought.

  
Ruby pulled out her phone, checking the internal clock for what seemed like the millionth time, the device nearly falling to the ground as her shaking hands ripped it from her pocket. Ninety-four minutes now. How much longer until the horror of not knowing overcame the terror of knowing exactly what was happening?

  
Fuck it. This couldn’t go on. Not knowing wasn’t doing anyone any good, and enough was enough.

  
The tv crackled to life, already tuned to VNN, and with wide eyes, Ruby read the headline scrolling across the screen…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Fire._

  
_Our understanding of it is almost archetypal, instinctual. It is the consuming force that can never be tamed or domesticated. The more it is given, the more it desires. We can bargain with it, make deals with it to do our bidding, to warm our homes and cook our food, but those deals always come with the implicit understanding that we feed the fire at our own risk, and that even a moment’s lapse in attention can spell disaster._

  
_What then can be said about a man who can control the uncontrollable, but instead of using such power to contain the beast, seeks only to unshackle it?_

  
_Montag’s gray silhouette lurched through the crackling timbers of the housing complex, the roaring of the fire around him drowning out the screams of terrified residents as they desperately sought some escape from the burning building. “Oh, kitty cat? Back for another round? I thought you had enough after the last time we did this little dance.”_

  
_Using her preternatural gift of silence, Sable inched her way around the ruined doorframe, covering her mouth with an elbow so as not to give away her position by coughing on the smoke that filled the air around her. As quietly as she could, she worked the zipper to the pouch on her lower back, pulling out the fire-retardant blanket Ruby had packed inside and unfolded it. About fifteen feet away from her and across Montag’s line of sight was another piece of cover, this one behind a smoldering bit of drywall, somehow still standing after getting repeatedly scorched by the supervillain. Sable scrunched her eyes closed. This was going to have to work._

  
_With both hands grasping the corners of the blanket, she held it up like a bullfighter’s red flag, perpendicular to Montag’s position and crouched behind it, completely obscuring her actual form. Without warning, she launched herself forwards, as much a sprint as she could while crouching. With a horrible screech of “There you are,” Montag lifted a blazing patch of fire and launched it at his foe, catching the blanket on a lower corner, safely away from Sable’s body. For a moment, the heat was almost unbearable, but with a well-practiced roll, the vigilante evaded a second strike and landed just behind the drywall cover. Just as Ruby had said, the blanket had protected her from the flash heat from the villain’s power._

  
_Montag’s boots crunched on the burning floorboards beneath them as he advanced on Sable’s new position. “Oooh, tricky tricky. Not half bad, kitty cat. Maybe it’ll even help you when you run away, tail between your legs. Just like last time.”_

  
_Sable gritted her teeth. She was not going to run away again._

  
_Holding up the blanket once more, she planned out her next mad dash, this time to what appeared to be a metal filing cabinet that had thus far survived the fire better than the wall it had once rested against. Again, Montag hit the blanket with a fireball, faster this time, but Sable still made it to the cabinet in one piece._

  
_‘Once more,’ she thought to herself. ‘That should be enough.’_

  
_Barely giving herself time for a single breath Sable braced again and sprinted across what was once an intact hallway almost making it to her destination behind another wall that somehow remained standing despite the devastation around it. The fire that Montag hit her with was stronger this time and knocked her to the floor with its force, though pure instinct carried the vigilante to safety before he could hit her a second time._

  
_Sable caught her breath as quickly as she could. Three was going to have to be enough._

  
_“Oh, come on, kitty cat. You can’t keep doing this forever. Why don’t you just come out from behind there and we can-”_

  
_From Montag’s perspective, Sable’s next move seemed to just be another change of cover. He saw the soft gray of the blanket pop up from behind the wall and he hit it with the strongest fireball he had. But strangely, the blanket just crumpled to the ground. No one was holding it up. And just as his eyes began widening in realization, he heard the tell-tale whoosh of Sable’s teleportation ability as she appeared just behind him, striking the back of his knee and delivering a bone shattering kick to the side of his head from a leg covered in layers of graphene and powered by inhumanly strong muscle._

  
_He screamed in pain as the specially treated glass covering his face shattered along with the respirator that protected his lungs from the smoke. With pain turning to rage, power exploded out of him, the pure blue heat of the fire scorching the building around him, and forced Sable back to a safe location, preventing her from pressing her momentary advantage._

  
_Blood trickled down his face from the shards of glass from his helmet which had sliced open his cheeks and forehead. He ripped the mask and respirator from his head, lurching drunkenly to his feet as he tried to recover from Sable’s kick. He spit onto the floor. “Good fucking try, kitty cat. But you’re gonna have to do better than that. And now,” he said as he picked up the crumpled form of the fire-retardant blanket. “You’ll have to do it without your little toy.”_

  
_Shit. Sable was going to need a new plan, and she needed one fast. With Montag slowly advancing on her position, arms raised in preparation for his next strike, the building itself seemed to shudder in agony as timbers fell and pipes once hidden behind layers of drywall, hissed like great metal serpents in the heat of the fire. Even the very air she breathed seemed to be turning against her, the smoke filling her lungs and throat, burning with every inhalation. Pulling the excess fabric of the suit’s collar over her mouth and nose, and securing it in place just below her mask, Sable peaked out to see her enemy, getting barely a glimpse before she had to duck back into cover, narrowly avoiding another fireball._

  
_She was running out of options fast. The building was close to collapsing, and she was nearing the point of exhaustion. Her dash ability had at best, a single use left before she would need to rest, most of her other abilities had little practical use in a fight like this, and she doubted that Montag would fall for a feint a second time. However, the sound of his boots nearing her position presented an opportunity. The villain had her beat in terms of range, but get in close, and he would be no match for her strength and training. A bum rush at this close distance could take him by surprise, especially as it lacked Sable’s usual subtlety. In that moment, it sounded as good a plan as any._

  
_With a sudden start, she burst out from behind her hiding place, charging at her enemy with every ounce of speed and power she could muster, but she wasn’t quite fast enough. Montag sent a wave of fire larger than any she had seen before straight in her direction, following it with a concentrated stream of flames aimed at the floor beneath her feet._

  
_At the last moment, Sable burned through the final use of her dash ability, trying to change course as quickly as she could, but it wasn’t enough. The combined strain of the fire and the extra force applied by the vigilante’s powers proved too much for the old, wooden floorboards, and with a momentous cracking they collapsed beneath her feet, sending her plummeting to the floor below._

  
_Pain exploded in her shoulder and ribs as she hit the ground, and it was only her years of experience and training that she was able to fight through it, rolling away from the jagged hole in the ceiling, and into a hiding spot behind a half-burnt dresser in the room she now found herself in._

  
_As the initial pain of the fall began to fade away, her fingers probed the hurt areas, and to her relief, found no blood, or broken bones underneath. Bruises, she could live with, and more importantly, keep fighting with. But how? What other options did she have?_

  
_With a thump and a crash, she heard Montag jump through the still-burning hole he had made, landing on his feet only a few strides away from her current hiding position. “Well, well, well, kitty cat! Looks like we’re taking our relationship to the next level, all puns intended. Now, where are you hiding this time?”_

  
_Sable scrunched her eyes closed. Things were looking bad. Very bad._

  
_Some say that in our final moments, we see our lives flash before us, a brief tour of the grand history that brought us from beginning to end. As poetic and satisfying as that may seem, the more reasonable explanation is merely that fatal desperation has a way of focusing our priorities. The possibility of never again experiencing the joys that made our lives worthwhile has a way of putting them in stark relief, of giving clarity to what is most important to us._

  
_In the quiet despair of that moment, Blake thought of Ruby, and just how much the young technician meant to her, how much fuller her life had become since their first meeting. What an awful shame it would be to die here, without ever seeing that smile again. Blake’s last words to her had been a promise, a promise that she would come back home. How cruel it would be to disappoint her, even after everything that Ruby had done for her, everything she had given her…_

  
_Wait! The suit! Ruby had said that there were weapons built into the arms! The left was a gun and the right was some form of launcher, she had said. Sable pressed the two buttons on the inside of her forearms and with almost imperceptibly quiet whirs, the two structures popped into place on her wrists. Making as little noise as she could, Sable slid a magazine of non-lethal ammunition from its place in the pouch on her lower back and loaded it into the weapon just above her left wrist. With a quick check to make sure everything was in place and ready, she started to formulate a plan. Sable grinned to herself. It wasn’t perfect, but it just might be enough._

  
_She took a deep breath, readying herself one final time before she put her plan into action. ‘I made you a promise, Ruby,’ Blake whispered to herself, ‘and this monster won’t make me a liar.’_

  
_Without a second thought, she popped up from her hiding place, immediately drawing the attention of Montag, who began raising his arm in her direction, palm open and facing the vigilante. But Sable was too quick for him, connecting the thumb and little finger of her left hand, and sending a rubber bullet directly for him. It connected right where the palm meets the fingers, snapping his hand backwards with a horrible crunching noise._

  
_Before Montag could react, Sable swung her right arm around, activating the launcher and shooting a black, synthetic ribbon to a spot just to the side of the villain. As she disconnected her fingers, the ribbon curled back towards the sender, wrapping itself snugly around Montag’s shoulder. Mustering all of her considerable strength into one motion, the vigilante yanked her arm backwards, sending her enemy careening across the room, and directly into the wall next to Sable._

  
_Capitalizing on the moment, she trapped his leg with one of hers and struck at the side of his knee, breaking it at an unnatural angle. Unable to support his own weight with just one leg, and screaming in pain, Montag began to fall, but with someone like him, grounded didn’t necessarily mean incapacitated. This was victory by knockout only, and Sable knew she had to win by overwhelming force. She grabbed each side of the villain’s head as he fell, forcing it downwards at an even faster rate. With the satisfying crunch of a nose breaking, Sable’s knee crashed into the villain’s face._

  
_By the sheer force of the blow, Montag flew backwards, landing hard on his back, limbs sprawled like a ragdoll around him. Not giving him even a second to breathe, Sable pounced, pinning his arms to the floor with her legs, and thrusting her forearm under his jaw, silently threatening to cut off his air if the villain tried to fight back._

  
_However, as things stood, she needn’t have bothered. Montag had no more fight left in him. He had several broken bones by this point, and blood flowed freely from his snapped nose. “Bravo, kitty cat! I don’t think I could’ve done it better myself.” He laughed weakly before succumbing to a bout of coughing, his breath shuddering in and out of his body. “Though if you’re expecting applause…don’t hold your breath.”_

  
_Sable leaned closer to him, and for the first time, she finally got a good look at the face of the man that was behind it all. All the fires, all the deaths, all the pain. He was responsible for so much suffering and hurt but between the blood and shattered glass, Sable realized that despite everything, he looked…normal. Completely average. Just another man approaching middle age, with thinning hair and stubbly chin, the long years of his life etched into the wrinkles of his forehead._

  
_“Before I turn you in, and you spend the rest of your life sitting in a cage, there’s something I want to know.” Sable leaned down towards him, staring into his eyes. “I want to know why. What possible reason could you have to hurt all these people, to burn them, destroy their homes, to take everything from them? Why did you do it?”_

  
_“Reason?” Montag laughed again, though it came out more as a pained exhalation than anything else. “You still haven’t figured it out. My reason, kitty cat, is very simple.”_

  
_With sudden intensity, the villain lifted his head off the ground, getting even closer to Sable as a manic grin spread across his face, decorating the already bloodied sight._

 

 

_“You see, I just really like reminding people…that everything burns.”_

 

 

_Sable brought her free fist down and into the side of his head, knocking him unconscious with a single blow. As her breathing began to return to normal, she grabbed the limp figure of Montag, and dragged him out of the burning building, delivering him to the line of police standing outside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a similarly masked and suited figure approach, giving her a respectful nod before producing a pair of handcuffs, falling to one knee to secure the villain. Upon seeing this, the firefighters who had held back from entering the building until the attacker had been apprehended, surged forward, knocking down doors to look for anyone still trapped inside while the water cannons atop their trucks began pumping water through still-burning windows._

  
_The battle had been won._

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

Ruby looked on in amazement, her mouth hanging open as the headline scrolled across the tv screen. “MONTAG DEFEATED BY UNKNOWN VIGILANTE AND IN CUSTODY OF HERO STRIDER”

  
Looped footage was being played onscreen, showing Sable dragging Montag’s limp form to a line of police and first responders arrayed in front of a still-burning Henderson Tower. From the movement and angle of the camera, it appeared to be drone footage, probably captured only a few minutes before. The picture zoomed in as Strider, possibly the most well known of Vale’s superheroes, approached her, falling to one knee as they handcuffed the unmoving villain.

  
In front of the footage, VNN anchors discussed the attack, reading off reports on the evacuation of the area and discussing the potential identity of the vigilante who had taken down the most notorious villain in the kingdom. Apparently, Gambol Shroud was different enough from Sable’s original homemade suit that no one had caught on quite yet, though that would change whenever someone got a hold of close-up footage, which would invariably show her ears. After that, it would only be a matter of time until they figured it out.

  
But Ruby wasn’t thinking about any of that. The only thing going through her head was the giddy relief of knowing that Blake had made it through, that she would be coming home.  
As if on cue, a loud thud sounded from near the bedroom window, boots hitting the ground with a weary heaviness. Without even thinking, Ruby rushed into the bedroom, just in time to see Blake taking off her mask.

  
“You’re home!” Ruby cried as she ran to the black-clad woman, stopping just a few inches away, thinking better of a hug before knowing if she had been injured.

  
Blake smiled at the young woman, and even though it betrayed the exhaustion she no doubt was feeling, it seemed to Ruby the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “I made a promise to you, didn’t I?”

  
Tearing her eyes away, the young technician anxiously scanned Blake’s body, looking for any holes or tears in the suit, hoping against hope she wouldn’t see the tell-tale red of an open wound. “Are you hurt? Did he get you anywhere?”

  
Although the suit was covered in a layer of soot and ash, she found no evidence of any serious damage, to the armor or otherwise. “I’m fine, Ruby. I may have a bruise or two, but nothing to worry over.”

  
Once again, silver eyes found Blake’s face, covered by bits of grime on the sections that weren’t protected by her mask, with sweat causing loose strands of hair to stick awkwardly to her cheeks and neck. The sheer force of the relief Ruby felt upon hearing those words washed over her in waves, flooding her system with the paramount understanding that Blake was here, and safe, and…

  
And Ruby kissed her.

  
It was less a conscious decision, than the instinctual reaction to knowing that the one person in the world that meant more to her than any other had come back alive, unharmed, and smiling. Once her mind had caught up to her actions however, things looked a little different.

  
Ruby’s eyes shot open and she practically leapt backwards, almost crashing into the wall behind her, as relief turned into immediate terror and regret over what she had just done.

  
“Oh – shit! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

  
For her part, Blake’s expression was pure shock, her eyes blinking for a moment before refocusing on the woman in front of her.

  
“Ruby,” she said evenly. “I have been trying for months to figure out a way to tell you how I feel about you and you just…kissed me.” The blank look on her face began to break, as a grin spread across it. Laughter filled the room, as she looked on in incredulous wonder. “You are impossible.”

  
“How you…feel about me?” Ruby asked, bewilderment replacing her earlier panic.

  
“You are, without doubt, the most incredible woman I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, Ruby Rose,” she said, the wonder on her face morphing into unmistakable fondness. “Since we first met, you have been a constant source of light and joy in my life, and every day getting to know you is one I’m thankful for. How could I not fall head over heels for you?”

  
She looked down for a second, suddenly bashful. “Sorry if that was a little too poetic, I’ve been working on that line for weeks. But,” she added with a smile, “it’s all true.”

  
“Then that means…”

  
“It means that after I take a shower and get a little rest, we are going to have a long conversation, but for right now,” Blake winked, her smile lighting every corner of her face, “it means that I would very much like you to kiss me again.”

 

 

In years to come, the couple would say their first kiss was a happy one, surrounded by laughter and smiles and glowing with the relief of mutual affection. But in that moment, as Ruby held the taller woman close, all she could think of was the feeling of Blake’s lips on hers, as warm as the morning sun and as soft as starlight.

 

 

### Epilogue: January 25th – Early Afternoon

As Ruby’s consciousness languidly roused itself from her afternoon nap, she could do nothing but smile to herself, for what dream could be better than this?

  
Outside the apartment windows the fierce winds of winter howled their way down Vale’s streets, but indoors that harsh reality seemed a world away. The earthy smell of chamomile tea filled the living room, mixing slightly with the vanilla of Weiss’ scented candle, coming hand in hand with the occasional sound of typing that crept from under her bedroom door. To fight the encroaching winter chill, the hum of the heating unit came in regular intervals which somehow seemed to cover up the quiet, low bass from Yang’s stereo. Light, powdery snow had fallen the night before and was piled up around every windowsill, reflecting what little natural light came through the thick cloud cover. Making up the difference were lamps placed strategically throughout the room, the soft glow coming through their shades giving a near-magical property to even the drabbest corner.

  
Ruby, still in her pajamas at two in the afternoon, was snuggled peacefully into Blake’s side, the two making indents in the soft fabric of the couch. With her head nestled on the Faunus’ chest, she could hear the quiet beat of her love’s heart, as even and steady as ever. Blake’s left arm had snaked its way around her, her hand tracing lazy patterns into the small of Ruby’s back. Her right hand was occupied in holding an old paperback, yellowed with age and its spine crinkled by heavy use.

  
With the slightest tilt of her head, Ruby looked upwards, just in time to see a small gasp leave Blake’s lips, her eyes widening in shock as they stared intently at the page before her. For a few minutes, Ruby simply watched her face; the slight part of her lips, the tilt in her brow, the frantic back and forth of those beautiful, beautiful eyes, still reeling from whatever twist she had just read.

  
But eventually, Ruby could feel her heart beating at its normal rate, her eyes not so shockingly wide anymore, and she decided it might just be time to interrupt.

  
“Hey,” she whispered, pressing a kiss into the line of Blake’s jaw.

  
She looked down at her and smiled, laying a kiss of her own on Ruby’s forehead. “Hey, yourself. I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

  
“Well, its kind of hard to stay asleep when a _certain someone_ is having the time of her life and has decided not to share it with her girlfriend,” Ruby said indignantly, pouting comically as she did so. “Its very rude you know.”

  
“Sorry, love,” Blake replied, the hint of a grin on her face. She tilted the book slightly, positioning it so both of them could read together. “Would you like to join me?”

  
“Only if you read it to me,” Ruby said, the pout turning into an impish smile.

  
“Ahhh, I see how it is now.”

  
As Blake tilted the book back to its original position and scanned the page for where she had left off, as Ruby once again let her head fall to her girlfriend’s chest and inched herself even closer to Blake’s side, eyes closed and a smile on her face.

  
After clearing her throat and another sip of her tea, Blake began reading, the low rumble of her speech traveling directly into Ruby’s ear.

  
_“…The mountain air stung at their cheeks and eyes, but the two hardly noticed, so entranced were they at the sunset before them. As they rocked slowly in the wicker chairs they had dragged onto the porch, the old hero told stories to her companion. She talked of days long past, and of days yet to come, but more than anything, she spoke of luck, and the peculiar powers it has over us. She had seen many misfortunes in her life, but regret was still a stranger to her, for every adversity had only moved her further along her own path, stronger and more determined than ever before._

  
_The old hero took a drag from her cigarette. ‘You see,’ she said, ‘It’s a strange kind of luck, when a black cat crosses your path…’”_

 

  
The world can be a harsh place, cold and fraught with many dangers. Yet despite it all, this is still a world where flowers bloom after every storm. Although luck may seem the greatest master of them all, the simple power of hope and the joy we share with others are the stars that light the infinite vault of the night sky.

 

And in that moment of pure contentment, curled up against Blake’s chest, Ruby felt nothing but joy, held by the arms of her beloved, and safe from all the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, I started working on this story over a year ago and its been an absolute joy and a pleasure sharing it with you all. Thank you so much to everyone who's come with me on this journey, and especially those who have left kudos and comments all along the way. You all are way too kind.
> 
> Over the past year I've sort of fallen in love with this AU, and so I'm currently working on a sequel story which has been something that y'all have asked me about in the past. As soon as its posted I'll add a note on this fic that will include a link to it. This may be subject to change but for now, I can say that my in-process title for it is 'Season of the Witch'.
> 
> Again, thank you so much to everyone who's enjoyed this story! You've been absolutely amazing to me, and its been a blast sharing this experience with you all.
> 
> Cheers everyone, and keep moving forward!

**Author's Note:**

> Alright part one is officially out! I've been really excited to put this up ever since I started working on it, its been a lot of fun to write. Anyways, feel free to comment/let me know what you think of it so far, I hope you all enjoy it!


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